Hermione Granger and the Heir of Slytherin
by RJLupinFan
Summary: A vanishing cabinet... an enchanted necklace... the Chamber of Secrets... and one very young, very dangerous, and ever so handsome Dark Lord. Hermione tries hard to send herself, Harry and Ron back to their own time, but Tom Riddle has other plans. HG/TR.
1. The Vanishing Cabinet

**Hi all!**

**So, for those where have been waiting, my new story is finally here. Its a Hermione/Tom Riddle fic. For those who aren't HG/TR shippers - read on, you may very well be converted! ;) But on a more serious note, the story is more than just the a romance, the adventure side plays a strong part, which is why I believe you don't have to be HG/TR shippers to enjoy it.**

**My aim with this story is for it to be well written and explore the more creative adventure side of things that a lot of authors fail to take advantage of. It's a story that will (hopefully) make you think.**

**Oh, and I'm a firm believer in characters being IN CHARACTER. One of the problems writers face with unusual pairings is that they end up making the characters out of character (without proper justification) which is unfortunate. I'll try hard to avoid this, and will appreciate any feedback if I slip up.  
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**I'm really excited about it and hope you will enjoy it too! Feedback is much appreciated.**

**Now, on with the story!  
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**Chapter 1**

"Harry, I'm telling you – this isn't going to work," Hermione sighed, watching her best friend walk back and forth before the wall that concealed the door way into the Room of Requirement, eyes scrunched and fists clenched in determination, her own expression a mixture of pity and exasperation. It was the third time she and Ron had been forced to stop opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy by a very determined Harry, and while she certainly admired his determination, she wished he would admit defeat. After all, it would look rather odd if they were found in a seventh floor corridor when they should be on their way to Hogsmeade, like everyone else.

Harry gave her a displeased look, and then sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"Look, Hermione," he said, "Why don't you just give it a try? You know you're smarter than me, I'm sure you can think of a way to get the room to open."

"You know this has nothing to do with intelligence!" she replied, exasperated, "It's obvious – Malfoy _asked_ the room to become a place where no one can find him or see what he is doing, unless _he_ has given it express permission."

"But can't you just try Hermione?" Harry pleaded, "If anyone can do this, I know you can."

She fought hard not to roll her eyes, and looked over at Ron for support. He, however, seemed much too busy watching Barnabas trip over his own feet to catch her eye. She scowled, turned back to Harry, and gave an exaggerated sigh of defeat.

"Okay, _fine_," she said, stepping forward to stand in front of the wall.

"Thanks, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, patting her shoulder encouragingly before stepping back to let her do her work.

"Excellent," she heard Ron say to Harry, "This should be good."

_Great_. _Now he chooses to get involved_, she thought.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she focused her gaze carefully on the blank wall, her brows drawing together in concentration. But her mind was blank – she could not think of a single sentence that Harry had not already tried and failed with.

_What I need is a different approach. _

"Right, I obviously can't ask it to show me the place where Malfoy is doing something – because he obviously would have made sure the room kept it all a secret," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else, "But there must surely be a loop hope somewhere – wait a minute, maybe…"

"Maybe, what?" Harry asked eagerly.

Hermione turned to face him, a thoughtful expression plastered on her face, "A loop hole, there must be a loop hole, right? There's no way Malfoy would be smart enough to cover _everything_."

"Right," said Ron slowly, his head choked slightly to the side as he tried to follow her train of thought, "And how are we meant to figure out this loop hole if we don't know what he told the room?"

"That's just it!" Hermione said, , "We might not need to know what he said, we might not even need to know what the loop hole is, and we just need to ask the room to show us whatever it can by using one of the loop holes!"

"We need to ask what?" asked Ron, throwing a confused look over to Harry, how looked equally clueless.

"Why don't you just give it a try, Hermione," Harry said quickly.

"Okay, here it goes," she replied, turning eagerly to the wall, her excitement mounting as she realized she may have just figured it out.

_Was Malfoy really up to something? Well, only one way to find out._

She paused for a moment, thinking up the best way to construct her request.

Concentrating hard, as though she were performing a test, she clearly thought the words: _show what Malfoy has been doing, using any loop hole that you can._

She walked past the wall three times, and after the third time, whirled around to look at the wall, and found it –

Unchanged.

A blank wall – no sign of a door at all, not so much as a rusty handle. Hermione felt her heart sink.

"Why didn't it work?" Ron asked.

"Wait – let me think it over," she said, frowning, unwilling to give up now that she had been faced with a challenge. She paced back and forth for a moment, thinking hard, and then it struck her.

"Of course!" she exclaimed, and turned to stand in front of the again.

_I need you to show me the _results_ of the loopholes in Malfoy's order to the room. _

This time, she had made no reference at all to what Malfoy was doing in the room – for she knew that if she did, it would most likely be covered by Malfoy's direct orders, and therefore not work.

She walked three times across the wall once again, and this time, when she turned to face it, her eyes closed, and when she opened them –

"It worked!" cried Harry, jumping forward to towards the door that had just materialized where there was once a blank stretch of wall.

"Brilliant, Hermione," beamed Ron, patting her back, "Bloody brilliant."

"Thanks, Ron," she said, pleased with her achievement.

"Ready, guys?" said Harry, his hand firmed clasping the door handle, and his elated grin almost manic.

After encouraging nods from both Ron and Hermione, Harry threw open the door, and three simultaneous gasps echoed through the hall.

_It didn't work._

Those were the first words that sprung to Hermione's mind when she saw the room. It was massive – perhaps three or four times larger than the Great Hall, it's high rising windows the only source of light to illuminate the towering rows of items – books, broken toys, damaged furniture, torn cloaks and muddy, blood stained robes, swords and jewellery, and even an odd, rusty suit of armour or two.

"What on earth is this crap?" said Ron, breaking the stunned silence and stepping into the room, followed quickly by Harry and Hermione, who closed the door behind them for good measure.

He leaned forward and picked up a rusty, blood stained sword and swung it above his head, though clearly, it was much heavier than he anticipated for it fell from his arms and landed with an awful noise which echoed dreadfully in the large room.

"Ron!" Hermione chastised, "This isn't the time!"

She looked over at Harry, and was surprised to see that he was not looking at the room in surprise, as she was, but rather with confusion and what was clearly recognition.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, "You look like you've seen this place before."

"That's because I have seen it before," he stated, his eyes narrowing as he looked down the many rows.

"What? What do you mean?" she asked, astounded by his reply.

"This is where I hid the book! The Half-Blood Prince's book!" he said, his pace quickening with every word he spoke, "I asked the room for a place to hide my book, and it gave me this room! That's it! Malfoy must have done the same, he must have asked the room for a place to hide his – his something, whatever he is working on – and this is what the room gave him!"

Hermione's eyes widened with understanding.

"Of course!" she breathed, "That explains why there are so many things – this must be the dirty laundry of hundreds of generations of Hogwarts staff and students! Those swords, they must have been here for centuries!"

She looked around the room again, in awe at the sheer history contained within these walls.

"This is amazing," she said, picking up an old text book entitled _Mastering Magic: The Do's and Don't of Successful Witchcraft and Wizardry_. It looked older than any book she had ever seen, and half the pages were missing. Those that remained were covered with scorch marks.

"Amazing?" Ron scoffed, looking around the room with apprehension, "This isn't amazing, this is annoying! How on earth are we ever going to figure out which of this stuff belongs to Malfoy?"

Hermione let the book fall to the floor, her excitement crashing with it, when she realized that Ron had a point.

"We'll never find anything," Harry said, shaking his head in frustration. He stalked forward through the rows, walking towards the end of the room.

"Harry? Where are you going?" she called after him.

"To get my book back!"

She opened her mouth quickly to say something, but Ron cut her off.

"Just drop it Hermione," he said quietly, "You know he's not going to leave the book, no matter what you say."

She knew he was right, but that did not stop her from shaking her head in annoyance. She held her silence, however, and followed Ron as he walked towards Harry, carefully stepping over fallen items.

"Hey, look," said Ron, stopping suddenly, a mischievous grin plastered on his face, "Isn't that the Vanishing Cabinet that Montague got lost in last year?"

Hermione looked to see where he was pointed, and was surprised to see the very same large, mahogany cabinet, clearly broken, but standing tall nonetheless.

"Yes, it is," she said, "But what on earth is it doing here?"

"Suppose one of the house-elves must have been asked to get rid of it, and this was the only place they could think of. I thought I saw a few empty bottles of butterbeer back there… Hey, Harry, you seen this, mate?"

Harry came walking over, the cursed book in his hands. Hermione glared at it.

"What is it? Oh, the cabinet, yeah I saw it last time I came in here..." he leaned forward, examining the crack running across its side, "Hey, what's this?"

"What?" Hermione asked, stepping forward for a better look.

"Someone's hung a necklace on here," he said.

Indeed, someone had. And it was the most amazing necklace Hermione had ever seen. It's chain was in fact two chains, one of gold and one of silver, seamlessly entwined around one another. The most intricate pendant was attached to it – a silver square, embedded with the reddest ruby, the greenest emerald and the bluest sapphire she had ever seen in her life, as well as a dazzlingly yellow gemstone that she had never come across before. The silver it was contained in was intricately carved with patterns she did not recognize; they looked like ruins, but unlike those that were taught at Hogwarts. It was clear that the necklace was old – antique even. She felt almost too awed touch it, but for some inexplicable reason, found herself drawn to it.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, pulling the necklace down for a better look.

Ron let out a long whistle, "I'll bet that's worth a thousand galleons or two, easy."

"But that doesn't help us at all," said Harry, apparently having forgotten that it was he who had pointed out the necklace in the first place, "No amount of gold is going to show us what Malfoy is up to in here."

But his words fell on deaf ears; Hermione was too busy examining the necklace – which she had just placed around her neck – to take any notice, and Ron was now rummaging through the pills of junk, clearly hoping to come across more treasures, and by the sounds of his jubilant exclamations, succeeding.

All three of them, however, were jolted back to the present when they heard the unmistakable sound of a door opening, and a voice that could only belong to Draco Malfoy.

"Remember, drop the scales if you see anyone, okay?" he said angrily, "And don't you dare sneak off to Hogsmeade!"

"Merlin's beard!" mouthed Ron, his eyes wide as he looked back and forth between the other two.

"Quick," Harry mouthed, grabbing the door of the cabinet and motioning for them to enter – the Vanishing Cabinet. The _broken_ Vanishing Cabinet.

"Harry, Ron, no!" she whispered furiously, but it was too late.

Ron had already jumped inside, and Harry, ever stronger than herself, pulled her inside despite her silent protests, jumped in after her and closed the door behind them.

The moment the door clicked shut, the world around her seemed to have dissolved, and with a terrible lurch that flung her off the cabinet floor, she felt herself being thrown backward at an incredible pace. Colours and odd shaped blurred past her, she could feel Ron and Harry bumping into her on either side. Her ears felt like they were ready to explode, though try as she might, she could not hear the cry that she knew had escaped from her own lips. She felt an odd warmth against her chest as the necklace pressed against her chest.

And then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped, and the world reappeared around her as her feet found solid ground again. She knew the only reason she had not yet vomited the entire contents of her stomach was because she felt like she had no stomach at all. There as silence for a moment, and then –

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy Y-fronts just happened?" she heard Ron exclaim from besides her.

"Shut up!" hissed Harry, "Malfoy will hear you!"

"No, he won't," Hermione said, the dread mounting inside her as she made a terrible realization.

"Why not?" Harry replied.

"Harry – I – I think, oh Harry! I think we've gone back in time!" she moaned, leaning back against the cabinet wall behind her, burying her head in her hands.

The jewellery Ron was holding slipped out his hands, but he did not seem to notice.

"You think _what_?" he gasped.

"Gone back in time," she repeated.

"What on earth makes you think that?" Harry questioned.

"Harry, I didn't spend my whole third year using a time turner for nothing," she replied sharply, "I know that feeling! The way everything dissolved, the way we were lurched backwards, the way we flew backwards! What were you two thinking? Jumping into a broken Vanishing Cabinet! Honestly, don't you two use your brains? Obviously it wasn't safe!"

"But that was way more painful than the time I did it," Harry said.

"I know," she said, frowning, "It's odd."

"But why would it have made us go back in time, even if it was broken?" Ron asked sceptically, as he picked up the jewellery he had dropped. Apparently, after the initial shock, he did not seem to believe Hermione's theory.

"I don't know," Hermione said, shaking her head, "I – I don't understand, I mean, it should transport us through _space_ – not time."

"Hear that Harry?" Ron said, rolling her eyes, "Something Hermione doesn't understand. That'll be a first, that will."

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Hermione snapped, "I don't see you trying to help –"

"Well, there's only one way to find out," he replied loudly, and moved forward to open the cabinet door.

"No!" Harry whisper harshly, grabbing Ron's hand and pulling him back, "Malfoy might still be out there! Here, put the cloak on."

Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of this backpack, and threw it over the three of them, Ron and Harry both bending their knees to make sure the cloak covered them all.

"Good thing we thought to take this to Hogsmeade with us," Hermione muttered, "Ron – will you stop fidgeting? Your feet are going to show!"

"Well, hold on a second, I just need to put this stuff in my pocket – okay, ready," he replied, jewellery stowed away carefully in his pockets.

Harry reached out a hand and opened the door, and for the second time in less than an hour, the three of them gasped in unison.

They were not in the Room of Requirement. They were not even on the seventh floor. They were in the Entrance Hall.

Hermione found herself breathing hard as the three of them stepped carefully out of the Vanishing Cabinet.

_Okay Hermione, calm down, you must have come out in the other Vanishing Cabinet, that's all – but there was never another Vanishing Cabinet in the Entrance Hall. Oh, no! We haven't really gone back in time, have we?_

"Hermione, stop breathing so loud, someone will hear us!" Ron whispered angrily.

"In case you haven't noticed, Mr, Sensitivity, there isn't anyone here to hear us, and it's the dead of the night!" she whispered back furiously, pointing at a nearby window which showed the pitch black sky with was sprinkled with stars.

"Will you two shut up?" Harry said, "This isn't helping! What on earth are we doing in the Entrance Hall, and why is it so dark? You don't think we really have gone back in time, do you, Hermione?"

Hermione bit her lip in worry.

"I – I guess we might have, just a few hours back, it felt like a few hours, anyway."

She looked around the Entrance Hall, hoping to see some kind of sign, a clue, but there was nothing, except –

"Hey," Harry said, frowning, "Since when was Gryffindor second in the House Champions ships? And why is Slytherin first? Ravenclaw was first at dinner time last night..."

"You're right," said Ron slowly, "And the scores weren't so neck to neck either…"

There was a moment's silence.

"You don't think we really have gone back in time, do you?" Ron repeated, "Much further back then we thought?"

"There's only one way to find out," Hermione said heavily, "Come on, let's go to the library, they'll have a copy of today's newspaper… we can check the date."

And so the three of them made their way to the library. It was a silent walk, except for the occasion whisperings of "Hey, since when did that painting hang there?" or "I could have sworn there was a crack in this wall."

But it was not until they reached the library that Hermione knew for certain that something was wrong – for the library looked nothing like how she remembered. Sure, the tables were all in the same places as they had been the previous night, but they looked different, less worn, covered with less graffiti. A good number of shelves were missing, and the librarians desk looked like someone had thrown out everything owned by Ms Pince and replaced it.

She cast a grim look at the others. She knew from their own grim looks that they too realized something was wrong.

They stepped in to the library carefully, quietly, and Hermione immediately noticed a dim light emanating from the Restricted Section.

_No doubt a student taking advantage of the night time._

She nudged Harry.

"What?" he breathed into her ear.

She indicated her head in the direction of the source of the light, and both he and Ron followed her gaze.

"Remember, _we must not be seen_!" she mouthed, shuddering inwardly at the thought that they might run into their younger selves.

Thankfully, Harry and Ron both nodded in understanding, and they made their way towards the stack of newspapers which was, fortunately, very far away from the Restricted Section.

The newspapers were stacked on selves, separated by date. There was a section for today, which was currently empty, most likely to make room for the fresh stack of news papers to arrive the following morning. Hermione moved instead to the pile of newspapers listed under 'This week'. She picked up the nearest paper, the Daily Prophet, but it looked nothing like the Daily Prophet she was familiar with. Her eyes flickered to the date printed on the top right hand corner, and it was all she could do to contain a gasp by clasping her hands to her mouth.

"What? What year is it?" Ron whispered nervously, "Go on, just say it!"

But she could not bring herself to speak. Instead, she held the paper out for them to read for themselves.

"No, no way," Ron muttered, his eyes wide, "It can't be!"

"Hermione, you said it felt like a few hours only!" Harry moaned, "How on earth did we end up in September, 1943!?"


	2. The Necklace

**A/N- So sorry about the delay! I hope to have the next chapters up every 5-6 days from now on, but bare with me if it goes a little over. I'd like to give a big thanks to my amazing beta,** _**Hajnalmada**_**_r._**

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**Chapter 2**

"We need a comfortable place where we can hide overnight," Harry said firmly, before walking back and forth three times in front of the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. It was rather uncomfortable, seeing as how he was still hidden underneath the Invisibility Cloak with Ron and Hermione, however the door still appeared immediately before them.

Harry threw the door open and they rushed into a room that strongly resembled Gryffindor tower, but without the red and gold colour theme. As soon as Ron closed the door behind them, they all broke out into a chorus of cries that had threatened to escape their lips as soon as they set eyes on the newspaper.

"Oh, what are we going to do? What are we going to do? Do you realize how many laws we could have already broken? Oh, no, no, no!" Hermione moaned almost manically.

"We are so dead," Harry announced as he collapsed into a comfortable looking sofa, "1943? My _parents_ aren't even born yet!"

"I'm going to kill ferret boy when I see, this all his fault, that filthy, slimy –"

Ron continued to call Malfoy such indecent names that if Hermione had not been so near to hysterics herself, she would have surely told him off. Instead, she sat down next to Harry, her hands shaking as she rested her head in them.

"What are we going to do?" she repeated.

"You're the genius here, Hermione, you tell us," Ron said as he too crashed down into an armchair.

"What do you expect me to do, invent a time machine?" she snapped, "I hope you realize all Time Turners are closely regulated by the ministry. There's no way we'd be able to get one – as if they'd even believe us!"

"Why shouldn't they believe us?" Harry asked, sitting forward, "What's stopping us from going and telling them that we got thrown into the past and need to get back?"

Hermione could tell, however, that even as he spoke the words, he knew how foolish they were.

"Harry, would _you_ believe you? A bunch of kids claiming to have come from the past – by means of a broken Vanishing Cabinet in a Room they don't even know exists?" she sighed, "I don't understand how this happened – it's a Vanishing Cabinet for God's sake! How on earth could this happen?"

"Well, it is broken," Ron said dully, "Maybe instead of transporting us to the other Vanishing Cabinet, it transported us back in time?"

"But it didn't do that to Marcus, remember," Harry pointed out.

"And besides," added Hermione, "It's not like time travel is something that can happen by accident – it's so – so intricate, so deliberate and complex. It takes years just to develop one Time Turner at the Ministry! Ah, it just doesn't make sense!"

"Well, how are we going to get back then?" Ron asked.

A heavy silence followed that question, and Hermione felt a weight descending into the pits of her stomach. _Will we ever be able to get back, or will we be stuck here for ever?_

"Well, what are we going to do now?" Harry asked, running a hand through his already messy hair, as though it would help clear his thoughts.

"What _can_ we do?" Ron asked.

"Hermione," Harry said, sitting forward suddenly, "Do you think you'll be able to go find something in the library to explain what happened? I know it's a long shot, but there could be something? Ron and I can help of course, but you know you understand these things better than we do."

"Yes," she said slowly, catching on to his train of thought, "I've only really ever skimmed through some books on classical methods of time travel, I've never really looked at alternative views, time travel happening unexpectedly and the like. And I suppose I might be able to find something useful on books about using physical methods of transportation."

"Excellent, if we can find a way to explain how this all happened, maybe we can find away to get back," he suggested.

"But – but, that could take ages Harry, and I don't know how I can spend so much time in the library without being seen, it's risky, even with the cloak… I won't be able to borrow anything either... and the books are charmed so we can't take them out of the library with borrowing –"

"Well, say you could borrow some library books?" he suggested, almost off-handedly.

"How?" she asked suspiciously.

"By, say, enrolling as Hogwarts students and getting a library card?"

Silence followed this suggestion. Ron looked like he liked the idea, though Hermione only stared at Harry in astonishment.

"Harry…" she said, "Harry, no! You know we can't be seen! It's the most fundamental rule of time travel, I've told you this before, the worst things have happened to wizards and witches who travel in time – they end up killing themselves!"

"I know Hermione," he replied quickly, "But think about it, we aren't even born yet. Our parents probably aren't even born yet, well, maybe Ron's are, but they'd be really young anyway. There's no one here who could possibly recognize us. What could possibly go wrong?"

"I agree with Harry," Ron said, "Besides, I don't want to live in this room for the rest of my life, and it's not like we can leave the castle, then we'd be with no food, no home, and, worst of all, no Vanishing Cabinet to get us back home when we've finally figured out what the hell went wrong."

"But we could end up changing _history_ –" she began.

"Oh please," Ron snorted, "As if we anything we do is going to change history. Well, alright, maybe you can, so you'll have to be careful, but what's the worst I can do? Set a new standard of failing? Not to mention Harry isn't even famous yet."

Hermione sat back into the sofa, thinking hard. She knew they had a point – they could not live in this room forever, especially not if other people use it too, and they could not leave the castle either, for there was no denying that without the library she stood no chance of figuring out what had happened to them. But the mantra that McGonagall had worked so hard to instill into her still rang in her ears. _You must not be seen_.

"How will we pay the school fees, anyway? And no, I'm not saying I agree," she added hastily. "And books? I don't think we'll be using the same textbooks."

"Easy," Ron said, beaming as he held out the necklaces and bracelets he had picked up in the room, "We can sell this stuff to that pawn shop in Diagon Alley, it's got to be worth a few hundred galleons at least."

"And I've got a fair bit in my wallet," Harry added, "Because, you know, we were going to Hogsmeade and all. So, what do you say Hermione, worth a try?"

She bit her lips, and sat silent for a moment, and then sighed in defeat.

"Oh, alright," she said, throwing up her arms, "I've always inclined towards the theory that you can't change the past anyway, because when the past happened the first time around, you were already part of it, like what happened with Buckbeak."

"Excellent, Hermione!" Harry beamed.

"So," said Ron, "What's our backup story? It's not like people rock up to Hogwarts unexpectedly like this every day."

"We could pretend to be transfer students? From Durmstrang!" Harry suggested.

"We can't," Hermione said immediately, "They'll check with the school for our records and find nothing. We'll be caught out for sure. I think our best chance would be to pretend we were home schooled."

"All of us, together?" Ron asked skeptically.

"Yes, it sounds weird, doesn't it?" Hermione agreed, "And they will know we aren't British either because we didn't have our names on the register."

"Well, maybe we can say we were born overseas? And then came back here, and our parents were all good friends and decided to home school us together."

"But for what reason?" she asked.

"Because… they – wait, isn't this about the time that Grindalwald was in power?" Harry asked, sitting up straight suddenly.

"Yes," Hermione said slowly.

"Yeh, so we can say our parents were scared of leaving us, in case something happened at Hogwarts, and now we got older and decided to come here?"

"But then they will need our parents to confirm all that won't they?" Ron said, flattening that idea, "Maybe – no, wait, how's this. We pretend out parents are dragon breeders living in Romania – I know enough about what Charlie does to be able to bluff my way through it, and I can teach you all everything I know. And Harry's even fought against a dragon, that's first hand experience! And then we can say we had to come here because the dragons went on a rampage and killed them all, and possibly even ate them!"

"All they'd have to do was check the dragon breeders registry on Romania to know it's a lie – you do know you can't be a dragon breeder without a license, don't you?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"Of course I know that," Ron said, affronted, "Well, then, we can say they were dragon smugglers, and we lived on the run all the time, which is why we have no home and had to be home schooled."

Harry cleared his throat just as Hermione was about to retort.

"Maybe we should say our parents died when we were young and we were raised by a friend of theirs, and he home schooled us? And then we can say that he passed away recently and so we've decided the only thing for it is to come to Hogwarts. And we can pretend the money we make from the jewelry is our inheritance?"

"Hmm, I think that's probably reasonable," Hermione said.

"Right," Harry said, "So how about Ron and I go down to Diagon Alley, sell the stuff, and come back with the money, while you, Hermione, work on the finishing touches of our story and see what you can find in the library, for now?"

"How are you going to get out? Through the statue of the witch?" Hermione asked.

"No other way, is there?" Ron replied, "By the way, Hermione, do you still have that necklace we found? I bet we can get a truck load of gold for that."

"What? Oh, right," she said, forgetting about the necklace she had around her neck, "Here just let me take it off – oh, what on earth… the clasp is stuck!"

"What do you mean, it's stuck?" Harry asked, "Do you need help?"

"Stuck!" she cried, "It's – it's fused together, I can't open it!"

"Are you sure?" Ron asked skeptically, "Maybe you're just not doing it right. Here, let me try."

"Yes, because you're such an expert on jewelry, Ron," she said, rolling her eyes, but allowed him to try anyway. She tried very hard to ignore the distinct flutter in the region of her stomach as he sat down besides her, his hands reaching for her neck.

"Hmm," he said after a moment of fiddling with the clasp, "You're right, it is stuck. Look here – it's as if it could never be opened in the first place, it's been flawlessly sealed together."

"Do you think something happened to it when we were travelling back in time?" Harry asked, also looking at the clasp with interest.

"I don't know," Hermione said, "It wouldn't make much sense though, metal just fusing together like that."

"Why did you put it on, anyway?" Harry asked, frowning.

"I – I – I don't know," Hermione stuttered, "I actually don't know."

Ron looked at it worriedly, "You don't think it's dangerous, do you? I mean, you know the kind of stuff dad sees at work – there was this one poor old lady in Manchester who had a necklace that would random lodge itself up her nose… apparently this one time it got stuck on bogey and somehow fused with it, and she couldn't get it out until they took her to St Mungos."

She stared down at the necklace, stunned that she could have so carelessly put it on without stopping to think if it was safe or not… it was completely unlike her.

"I guess I could try a severing charm," Hermione said, raising her wand.

"Are you crazy?" Ron said, grabbing her hand, "Think of the gold we could make with that thing!"

"Well, we certainly aren't going to sell it while it's stuck on my neck!" Hermione scoffed, twisted her arm out of his grasp and said "Diffindo!"

But the necklace remained unharmed, without even a scratch on its surface. Panicking, Hermione tried ever severing charm she could think of, even attempting to enlarge it so she could simply pull it off her head. Nothing worked, however. It was resistant to everything she could think of.

Harry shook this head, "It's not going to work, and it's too well protected. I wonder why someone went to all that trouble?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, giving up, "And I certainly hope I don't have to find out the hard way. Here, give me the rest of the jewelry, we should check that they aren't cursed or something before we sell them."

A few incantations later, Hermione was certain the rest of the jewelry was safe to sell.

"Well, I think Ron and I should get going – let's just hope we find the place open at this time of the night," Harry said, "We can flow to Diagon Alley from The Three Broomsticks, or maybe even the Hog's Head… probably less likely to see someone like a teacher there. We can take the Marauder's Map, and you can use the cloak to go straight to the library. Just – just try to be careful, okay?" he added, looking nervously at the necklace.

"I'll be fine, I hope. Make sure no one sees you leaving or coming back, though!" Hermione warned, "And do try not to act conspicuous, will you? Oh, and you'd better change out of your uniforms! How do you think it'd look if someone thought you were student's skipping school?"

"Oh, I knew there was a reason we brought ten kilograms of spare clothes with us!" Ron said sarcastically.

"Don't be silly, we can ask the room to give us some clothes," Hermione said, and then she cleared her throat and said in a loud, clear voice, "We need clothing typically worn by teenagers in the year 1943."

The room provided them with some plain clothes, and Hermione left the boys alone to change. She made her way to the library alone, covered in the Invisibility Cloak. This time she noticed the little things that she had missed on the journey to the Room of Requirement: more missing painting, more paintings she had never seen before, even the odd vase or two that she was certain did not exist in her own time. It was all she could do to stop herself from panicking all over again.

_Okay Hermione, just calm down. You'll figure something out. There's no way you're going to be stuck here forever. You'll find something… the library has never failed you before._

She repeated this to herself over and over again until she reached the library where, she felt, she no longer needed the reminder. Seeing shelve after shelf of books stacked before her calmed her, reminding her that the knowledge she needed to solve this issue was surely just waiting for her to find it.

Just as she was about to take a step forward, something appeared to move in a far corner, and her eyes travelled to the restricted section, where she could just make out the dim light she had seen earlier.

_Of course! I forgot that someone was already here! _

She froze for a moment, unsure of what to do, and then decided that she should probably check who it was – after all, it would be unwise to linger for too long if it was actually a teacher (although she very much doubted a teacher would be sneaking around at this time of the night). She carefully approached the restricted section, weaving as silently as possible between the recognizable though oddly unfamiliar desks, until she reached the restricted section, the entrance of which was blocked off by a rope. There was no chance of her moving the rope without bring attention to herself, so she settled for carefully leaning over it and looking down the aisle of forbidden books. On her right she immediately spotted a teenager who looked to be her own age, a dim lantern held high in one hand, providing just enough light in the darker corner where he stood, his eyes running quickly past the titles on the shelves. There were already a number of books lying open on the floor.

The dim light illuminated his features, so Hermione could see that he was very tall, perhaps a head taller than herself, with dark eyes, black hair which he parted to one side and hang casually though deliberately across his forehead, in a very nineteen forties kind of fashion, and very well defined features that left him looking all together very handsome.

What really drew her attention, however, was the shiny prefects badge attached to the front of his robes. Part of her wanted to reproach him for being out of bed, but another part of her knew that she was not one to talk – being a prefect had not stopped her (and especially not Ron) from getting in to trouble.

Just as she was her curiosity was starting to building up, he pulled down a very large, very old, leather-bound book from the shelve, and she was just able to snatch a glance at the title.

_Famous Treasures of the Hogwarts Four. _

She was extremely taken-aback. She had expected something more exciting, more intriguing – _Moste Potente Potions_, perhaps, or something along the lines of _Magick Moste Evile_. But _Famous Treasures of the Hogwarts Four?_ Why would anyone – a prefect, no less – go to all the trouble to sneak into the restricted section in the middle of the night, just to read a book about the treasures that once belongs to the founders of Hogwarts?

He set the book down ground and he sat down on his knees next to it, leaning forward to read. As he did so, a necklace he was wearing fell forward from the behind the folds of his robe, and though the light was dim, there was no mistaking the glistening of the four gems – red, green, blue and yellow.

He was wearing the same necklace she wore.

This time around, the shock was not anticipated, and so a small gasp was able to escape her lips before she could press her hands across her mouth. She froze as the boy looked up sharply. He quickly disillusioned himself nonverbally (which, needless to say, Hermione found rather impressive) and the books and lantern on the floor, and stood up and walked quietly towards the entry of the Restricted Section. Hermione cast a quick, nonverbal muffling charm on her shoes and slowly moved as far away from the entrance as she could. She could only just make out his outline, and after a moment or two, he seemed to have decided that there was no one there, for he turned around returned to his books.

Hermione stood still for a moment, her heart thudding silently at the near miss. She debated with herself as to whether she should leave before she was caught.

_I should leave_, she thought. _But what about the necklace? What if it is the same one – what if the necklace itself somehow bought us here?_

She felt her excitement mounting – maybe it was not an accident after all! Maybe there was a reason they were in 1942 and not 1951 – what if the necklace had some kind of power that forced the time travel to stop at this time, because of the necklace the boy was wearing?

She resisted the urge to jump from foot to foot from excitement at her new lead, and instead crept quietly back towards the Restricted Section entrance. He had disillusioned the books and lantern, but (rather wisely, thought Hermione), had decided not to lift the charm from himself. She could still see his vague outline, however.

He was flicking quickly through the books contents page, and then, apparently not having found anything, started looking through the index. This gave Hermione the distinct impression that he knew exactly what he was looking for. A moment later, he slammed the book shut.

"Nothing! How am I ever going to get this thing off?" he growled, while tugging at the necklace.

Hermione's eyes widened with realization. She looked down at her own necklace and tugged instinctively at it, pulling it around her neck until she found the clasp. It was still stuck – fused, even. She felt certain that it was no coincidence – that it was from the magic of the necklace that it could not be removed.

The boy stood up, and with a flick of his wand, sent the books flying back to the shelves, where they neatly found their original places. Another flick of the wand, and the lantern vanished, and, still disillusioned, the boy walked towards the entrance, stepped carefully over the rope (Hermione had, of course, moved carefully out of his way) and strode quickly, but quietly out of the library.

Hermione waited for about half a minute, and when she was sure that it would be safe, she crept forward into the Restricted Section, going straight to the books that the boy had returned to the shelves. She immediately recognized the bulky _Famous Treasures of the Hogwarts Four_ edition. Up close she could see that it was extremely old, the cream leather binding peeling off in some places. She also recognized one other book; it was equally bulky with a thick brown binding that looked as though it were ready to fall apart. The title, _Hogwart's Greatest Secrets_, was stamped across the front in peeling silver.

She noticed immediately that both books were related to Hogwarts – was the necklace created by one of the founders of Hogwarts?

She carefully pulled the books down from the shelf and placed them on the floor.

"_Geminio_," she whispered, wand pointed at the books, and an identical copy of each one appeared right besides them. They would not last very long before they vanished, but at least she would have time to look at them carefully.

She quickly replaced the original copies on the shelves and carried the copies under her cloak. She was just about to leave the library when she remembered that she still had not looked for books related to time travel or instant transport. She hesitated for a moment, tempted to come back for the books when she had a library card – but she had no guarantee that they would be allowed to enroll as students. And so she went back to collect a number of basic books about time travel and instant transport as well.

It took her some time to return to the Room of Requirement, now that she was holding seven books – many of them extremely bulky. So, by the time she arrive, she found that Harry and Ron had already returned.

"It's about time!" announced Ron when she arrived, jumping up from his chair in relief, "We thought you'd been caught or something! And blimey, are you sure you've got enough books there?"

"Never mind that," Hermione said eagerly, "Have you got the money? Did it all go okay?"

"It went brilliantly," said Harry, who stepped forward to take some of the books off Hermione and set them down on a coffee table which certainly had not been there the last time she had been there, "We have over four hundred galleons! One the necklaces alone sold for two hundred and –"

"You should have seen the stingy jerk, Hermione," Ron interjected; now also helping with her with her load, "He tried to give us one hundred galleons for that necklace, you know, the ones with all the diamond? It wasn't until this other bloke walks into the shop and offers to buy it from us for two hundred that we realized he was trying to rip us off!"

"Hmm, lucky for us then, isn't it?" said Hermione amusedly, as she took a seat on the sofa, "But where is the money, anyway? Surely four hundred galleons is hard to hide? How did you carry it all back?"

"Well, we didn't," Harry admitted.

"What do you mean, you didn't?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"We opened a Gringotts account," explained Ron, "We put most of the money in there, and kept a hundred galleons with us – it should more than enough for all the fees and books and stuff. Blimey, I've never even held so much money in my life!"

"You – you did _what_?" Hermione stuttered, appalled.

"See, Harry?" Ron said pointedly while helping himself to a custard tart from the selection on the coffee table, "I told you she wouldn't like it."

"Don't worry, Hermione," Harry said quickly, "We didn't use our real names, so even if someone tried to trace it back to us in the future, they wouldn't be able to. We've put it under my name, as Harry Evans. It's a common enough muggle name."

Hermione relaxed again, "Well, I suppose that's alright, although I'd have preferred if we left as few traces as possible. Have you chosen a name, Ron?"

"Well," he said thickly through a full mouth, "I was thinking of using my mum's maiden name, Prewett, but it's too common amongst wizards, so I'm going with Ron Wesley."

"Yes, very original, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "I think I'll just replace my surname with my middle name. Hermione Jean. Anyway," she said importantly, "I got a theory about how we got here."

"What, already?" asked Harry, sitting up straight.

"Well, it's a little sketchy, with holes the size of the Forbidden Forest," she admitted, "Listen to this – you know that light we saw in the Restricted Section? Well, I had a peak to see who it was, you know, in case it was a staff member, but it was just a boy, a prefect about our age, and he was looking through some books. But you won't believe what he was wearing!"

"What? A tutu?" asked Ron.

"No, Ron. He was wearing this necklace!" she exclaimed excitedly, pulling the necklace forward.

Both Harry and Ron simply continued to star at her with blank expressions.

"Well, I guess it isn't all that feminine, I mean, it could easily pass as unisex, couldn't it? What do you think Harry?" Ron suggested, "Though I don't see what this had to do with us –"

"But it can't be just a coincidence, can it, Hermione?" Harry said, frowning in thought, apparently catching on.

"Exactly," she replied, "It can't be. I think maybe the necklace is magical itself, not just protected by magic – the boy was looking for something in the books to tell him how to take the necklace off, because it was stuck on him as well."

"So," said Ron slowly, "What are you saying? That the necklace bought us here, or something?"

"Well, that's the thing, I'm not sure," she admitted, "For one thing – I don't know why we arrived at that specific time… or how the necklace was activated, if it was the necklace at all. It could have been the Cabinet that threw us back in time, and the necklace that made us land here. At any rate, I made copies of the books the boy was looking through to see if they have any information about the necklace, and I also made some copies of books about time travel and instant transmission through space."

"Should we have a look at them, then?" Harry asked, eyeing the books curiously.

"Not yet," Hermione said reluctantly, "I don't think they have anything about the necklace in them anyway because the guy I saw didn't seem to find anything. Right now, we need to think about how we are going get enrolled here. I was thinking I could send an owl to the headmaster, asking to have a meeting with him sometime today."

"No need," Ron said, beaming, "We already did."

"You did?" Hermione asked, startled.

"Yep, it was my idea," Ron said proudly.

"But – but, what did you _say_?" she replied.

"We told him we're orphaned children who had been home schooled and wanted to start at Hogwarts in our sixth year. We didn't give too many details, because, you know, we thought you'd come up with something better," Harry explained.

"Oh, well, okay. I guess we'd better think of something, then?" she replied.

"Well, now probably won't be the best time," Ron reasoned, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm exhausted! I reckon we all need a nap before the day starts."

Hermione was about to protest, given that they had just woken up a few hours ago, but she noticed at that moment how very tired she was.

"Same," Harry said, barely stifling a yawn, "Do you think it was the time travel that did it?"

"Dunno, but I could ready do with a nice, comfy bed right about now," Ron replied, and no sooner had he finished that sentence, did a four poster bed appear along the side of the room.

"You know what," Ron said, impressed, "I think I could get used to living in this room."

---

"Wake up! Harry, Ron, wake up!"

Hermione waited for a moment, but there was no sign that either boy had heard her from behind their drawn curtains.

"Tsk, honestly," she muttered, and then added in a louder voice, "If you don't hurry up we're going to be late. The headmaster is expecting us in less than an hour!"

"What?" came a muffled reply from Harry's bed. A moment later the curtains were parted and Hermione saw a head of very messy black hair appeared, "What do you mean, expecting us? What's the time, anyway?"

"It's nine o'clock," she replied, as Ron too started showing signs of life and drew back his curtains, "He replied saying he can meet us at 10 am."

"Hermione," mumble Ron as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, "How did he send us as an owl, if we are in this room?"

Hermione smiled guilty, "I went down to Hogsmeade to wait for his reply, while you too slept. I didn't expect the owl would be able to find us in here."

"Smart thinking," said Harry.

"Thank you. So, you two had better hurry up and get ready, we need to get down to Hogsmeade soon. Breakfast is on the table, by the way, I got some from the kitchens."

"Wait, why do we need to go to Hogsmeade?"

"Well, how do you expect to explain to the Headmaster how we snuck in to Hogwarts? Besides, he said he'd send for someone to let us in at the gate at ten."

And so Hermione left the two boys to get ready to leave, and sat down alone in a corner, allowing herself to collect her thoughts. Everything that had happened in the last few hours had been surreal. It was impossible to comprehend that she really had been thrown so many years into the past, and awful thoughts kept occurring to her, leaving her with a terrible, sinking feeling in her stomach. She tried not to think about what would happen if they could never get back home, or if they were refused entry into Hogwarts. Most of all, she tried not to think about her parents… but it was a fruitless attempt. She had in fact cried herself to sleep the previous night, thoughts of never seeing her parents again clouding her mind. She could almost see them, in the corner of her eye, her mother weeping into her father shoulder after Dumbledore broke the news to them that she had vanished, gone without a trace.

_Stop thinking about that. Crying is not going to help. You need to focus on the task at hand._

She stood up and went to sit with Harry and Ron, not even bothering to turn to her books as she would usually have done. She knew that when she sat down to read, it would be when she had a good block of hours to spare – there was no point reading for five minutes and then realizing she had to put the books away.

Neither of them said much as they ate. Hermione could see that Harry and Ron were both deep in thought. She wondered what they were thinking. No doubt, they, like her, were wondering when they would return to their own time, whether they would see their family and friends again…

"You know, we need to perfect our story, in case the headmaster asks us for details of our background," she said, regretting what she was the one obliged to break the silence.

Both Harry and Ron agreed with this, and so they spent the rest of their breakfast discussing all the possible questions the headmaster might ask, and covering all the little details that would make their story that little bit more believable.

"And besides," said Ron, as they neared the end of their discussion and prepared to leave, "We can always get out of talking about things by pretending that it's all too painful to talk about."

The trip to the schools gates took quite a while, as they had to first go to Hogsmeade using the passage that opened up into Honeydukes, and then walk back to the castle.

"I don't see why we couldn't have just walked out on to the grounds and jumped over the gates," Ron complained as they half walked, half jogged up the dusty path towards to the school.

"Yes, Ron, because the school is so unprotected that people can just jump in and out as they please," Hermione replied sarcastically.

They arrived at the schools gates, only to find them closed and no one in sight.

"You don't suppose he's forgotten to send someone over, has he?" asked Harry, looking over at Hermione for some kind of explanation.

Hermione frowned, "He can't have forgotten, it was hardly more a few hours ago that he sent the owl –"

"Who is this fellow, anyway?" asked Ron suddenly, "You know, we haven't even considered whether or not we will recognize any of these people."

"Well, how can we? We've never meet any of them," interjected Harry.

"I wouldn't count on that," Hermione said knowing, "I don't know how the Headmaster is, but I can think of at least one person who we can expect to recognize."

Harry's eyes widen with recognition, "You don't mean –"

"Professor Dumbledore!" Ron gasped, gaping at something behind Hermione shoulders.

Harry and Hermione both spun around on the spot, only to find that it was indeed the Albus Dumbledore who was standing on the opposite side of his gates, wand raised to let them in. And though his eyes were as blue as ever, and his overall aura very welcoming and simultaneously somewhat intimidating – or at least Hermione thought so – there was no mistaking that he was obviously much younger. A head of neat, long auburn hair replaced the familiar white, and his face was substantially less wrinkled. As much as she had been expecting to see Professor Dumbledore, nothing prepared her for his surprise appearance and she found herself quite at a loss for words.

"Good morning," said the younger Dumbledore pleasantly as he waved his wand to open the gates.

Dumbfounded, none of them actually moved, though Harry recovered his wits first and walked in, Hermione and Ron following quickly.

"Good morning, Professor," Harry replied.

"I see I need no introduction," he said, looking pointedly at Ron, who promptly turned a subtle shade of red.

_Oh no! How much had he overheard?_

"We've, er, heard a lot about you, you see," stuttered Hermione quickly, hoping to cover up their mistake, "And it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Your writings for Transfiguration Today are always a pleasure to read, though I must admit they are sometimes a little bit beyond my scope. I did enjoy that paper about your theory about possible extensions of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elementary Transfiguration –"

Hermione allowed herself to trail off as she noticed the incredulous looks her friends were wearing and she fought back a blush.

Dumbledore however merely chuckled, "Well, I'm certainly impressed; I've never had a student admit to having read any of my publications. I'm delighted, Miss –?"

"Oh, I'm Hermione," she said promptly, "Hermione G – Jean. And this is Ron Wesley and Harry Evans. We wrote to the Headmaster this morning to request a meeting."

"Yes, yes, I've been well informed. It's a pleasure to meet you all. Now, if you would follow me, Headmaster Dippet is expecting you."

_Dippet? That's right, he was the headmaster before Dumbledore. Which means that Dumbledore is now the Deputy Headmaster._

The three followed Dumbledore in silence, Hermione still fighting to bring her bodily temperature back down to normal levels. She hadn't meant to say so much – she had just been caught off guard. Ron purpose caught her eye and mouthed the words, "What on earth was that?" She pointedly ignored him. Instead, she focused on perfecting the story they would present to Dippet.

"Have any of you ever visited Hogwarts before?" Dumbledore asked as they crossed the Entrance Hall (all of them pretended to be awed by the castles glamour, as planned).

"No," said Hermione, as they had planned for her to answer as many of the questions as seemed reasonable, "We have seen pictures of course, but nothing compares to the real thing," allowing her eyes to linger on what could be seen of the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall.

They continued on towards the Headmaster office, with Dumbledore keeping up a stream of light conversation, directing questions specifically to Harry and Ron when he realized they had no intention of speaking. Hermione had the distinct impression that he was trying to gather information, in that subtle way of his. Her stomach lurched as she wondered whether he suspected anything.

_Don't be stupid, he can't possibly be suspicious yet, you just meet him a moment ago! _

Still, she was extremely relieved when they arrived at the office and Dumbledore said the password ("Ministry" – a far cry from Dumbledore's more light hearted theme) and instructed them to take the stairs up and knock on the Headmasters door.

"Aren't you coming too?" Ron asked, surprised.

"No, no, I'm afraid not," he said merrily, "Good day to you all!"

And with that, he walked away, humming happily to himself. Hermione was glad to see him leave – it would have been altogether intimidating to have him present at the meeting. Somehow, she suspected that Professor Dippet would be much easier to win over than Professor Dumbledore.


	3. The Sorting Hat

**Chapter 3**

The three looked at each other, each one apparently looking to the others for strength, and together they stepped onto the spiral, rotating stair case. At the top, they were met by a closed wooden door. Hermione took a deep breath as she watched Harry knock on the door. They heard some papers shuffling in the room, footsteps, which were closely followed by a cry of pain and then the sound of something breaking. Before the three could do any more than share a bemused look, the door opened.

They were greeted by a tall, though frail looking old man with no more than a few wisps of white hair. Hermione recognized him immediately from the portrait that hung (_or will hang, _she thought, barely suppressing a shudder) in Dumbledore's office.

"Ah, good morning," he said, somewhat feebly as he surveyed them with interest, "You must be Miss Jean, and Misters Evans and Wesley?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry.

After a quick round of handshaking and introductions, they were invited into the office, where they sat down across his desk in three chairs that he had summoned. Hermione noticed what looked like a shattered cup on the floor.

"Ah, you've noticed that, have you?" chuckled Professor Dippet. With a sharp wave of his wand, the cup put itself back together (a non-verbal _repairo_, Hermione noted) and he levitated it back up onto the table.

The headmaster sat down across from them.

"I have your letter here, where was it – ah, yes, here it is," he pulled the letter out from under a messy pile of parchments, and scanned over it again quickly, "I see you've given a brief explanation here of your circumstances," he said, and then looked at them sympathetically and added, "I'm terribly sorry for your loss, all of you. Well, now, you might not be aware of this, but whenever a witch or wizard is born, his or her name is automatically put down for Hogwarts, however I have not been able to find your names on the list."

"We were all born outside of the country, Professor," Hermione quickly explained, just as they had rehearsed, "So our names couldn't have been put down on the list."

"Ah, yes, of course," said the headmaster, nodding, "The list includes only people born in the country. Your parents were all born in the country, I'm assuming?"

"Yes, Professor."

"And I am assuming you have sat for your OWL's, seeing as how you wish to start as sixth years?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," said Hermione, nervous about what she was about to do, "I have a copy of our results, if you'd like to see it."

"Yes, that would be required," he said, and Hermione gave him the forgeries.

He did not look at the results, but made a duplicate of them, and handed the forgeries back to Hermione. She let out a soft breathe of relief, and she saw Harry and Ron also relax slightly at her side – the duplicates he made wouldn't have all the special authentication charms the official copies should have, and so she did not have to worry about their absence from her fake copy.

He spent a moment looking at their marks.

"Well, you will be pleased to know that it is Hogwarts policy not to question prospective students beyond what is required, and I feel I have all the information that I require," he said.

_What? I've never heard of that policy before! _

"However, I would like to send an owl to the reference you've put down here, this wizard you said had home schooled you, Mr Potter," he added.

Hermione felt her stomach clench. She looked sharply at Harry and Ron, who pointedly avoided looking at her.

_Reference? You didn't tell me about any reference!_

"On behalf of Hogwarts, welcome. It is my pleasure to have you here."

Hermione felt a rush of relief run through her, and pushed the thoughts of the reference out her mind, for the moment, vowing to deal with it later. Harry and Ron high-fived each other.

"Awesome!" said Ron enthusiastically.

Professor Dippet smiled.

"Now, I trust that you have the funds to cover your fees and the cost of books, stationary, uniforms and such?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered, "We have a small inheritance each. It should be more than enough."

"Well, then," he said, standing up and walking towards a shelve on the other side of the room, "I suppose all we have left to do is to sort you."

He picked up the familiar old and dirty hat – the sorting hat, which had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor. Hermione's smile faltered.

_Would the hat know we are from the future? _

But there was nothing she could do as Dippet explained the process of sorting and then placed the hat on Harry's head. Surprisingly, Harry's face was rather grim as the hat fell down to cover his eyes. She wondered whether he too was worried that the hat might expose them.

There as a moments silence, and then –

"_SLYTHERIN_!"

"WHAT?" cried Ron, jumping up so suddenly that his chair fell over backwards.

Hermione felt her jaw drop as she watched Harry take of the hat, and rather than looking surprised, he looked annoyed.

"How can you be Slytherin?" demanded Ron, his face white, so that his freckles stood out more than ever, "What's going on here, the hat must be wrong! Can't he do it again?"

Professor Dippet, who looked thoroughly taken-aback, opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Harry.

"Ron, drop it," he said firmly, carefully not looking at anyone, "The hat didn't make a mistake."

"But –"

"Ron, I said drop it," Harry insisted.

Ron fell silent and, looking confused, picked up his chair and sat down, giving Hermione a quizzical look, which she could only return with a shrug and a shake of her head.

"Really, now," said Professor Dippet, looking perplexed, "Slytherin isn't that bad, you know. Our best pupil happens to be a Slytherin sixth year Prefect. A most charming young lad. Miss Jean, if you would like to go next."

Hermione nodded and allowed the Professor to place the hat on her head. It slipped down over her eyes, just as it had done in her first year.

"Well, well, well, Miss Granger, fancy seeing you here, so out of your time," she heard the voice buzz in her ear.

"_Why did you put Harry in Slytherin?_" she demanded, knowing the hat could read her mind.

"Ah, well that is between Mr. Potter and myself. If think the more important question is why I am going to put you in Slytherin, Miss Granger."

"_What! I was Gryffindor! So was Harry! We don't belong in Slytherin – and besides, I'm muggle born!_"

"Do not forget that I can read your memories, Miss Granger. I see your past – my future – and I see how it relates to our time. Don't you want to be with Mr Potter? You don't plan to leave him there alone, do you?" said the hat.

Hermione remained silent for a moment, startled by the question.

"I'll take that as yes," the hat said triumphantly,

"_Wait! What do you_ –"

But it was too late.

"_SLYTHERIN!_"

"What on EARTH?" Ron exclaimed, and before she could lift the hat of her head, she felt it being ripped off, and as her vision returned to her, she saw Ron standing in front of her and slamming the hat down on his own head. Hermione saw Harry looking at her with surprise, his anger seemed to have completely vanished, and his eyes betrayed confusion.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Ron demanded angrily to the hat, not even bothering to use his mind to communicate instead of his mouth.

"What do you mean I'll find out soon enough? Soon enough isn't good enough –"

"_SLYTHERIN!_" the hat said, cutting him off completely.

Ron stood absolutely still for a moment, and there was silence as the others waited for him to react, but he did not. Hermione took pity on him and removed the hat from his head. His eyes were wide with shock.

"Ron," Hermione said gentle, "Sit down."

He obeyed, slipping back limply into his chair.

"Er, well, right," said Professor Dippet, looking uncertain, "Normally I would have had Professor Slughorn – our head of Slytherin – show you to your common room, but I'm afraid he is teaching a class at the moment, so I'll call on one of our sixth year Slytherin prefects. She should be here in a moment, if would just wait outside the statue of the Gargoyles for her. Oh, and I'll have Professor Slughorn come by to see you during his lunch to arrange for your uniforms, books, stationary and subjects."

None of them spoke until they were safely outside of the office and the statue of the gargoyles had closed up behind them.

"What on earth just happened?" Ron demanded, looking from Hermione to Harry for an explanation, "How on earth did we just end up in Slytherin?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, shaking her head, "The hat just told me I'd figure it out sooner or later."

"That's what it said to me too!" Ron replied angrily, kicking the foot of the gargoyle statue.

"Watch it!" it growled at him.

"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively, noticing that he looked very withdrawn.

He shook his head, "I don't know why you guys ended up in Slytherin, but the hat told me I'd do well in there," he admitted.

"What?" Ron asked, looking away from the statue, "What do you mean you'll do well there? It put you in Gryffindor last time! Can't the blasted thing make up its mind?"

"Ron, it only put me in Gryffindor last time because I asked it to," Harry said, "It was going to put me Slytherin. I didn't tell you guys before, because well, there was no need."

"But you're as un-Slytherin as a person can get!" Hermione said, shocked.

He shrugged, "I guess the hat didn't think so. I just don't understand why it put you in Slytherin too."

"There seems to be a reason…" Hermione said thoughtfully, "For one I imagine it didn't want to separate us, but I can't think of anything other than that. Wait, someone's coming, I think it's the prefect…" she added, after spotting a tall girl in Slytherin colours walking towards them.

The girl approached them quickly with a welcoming smile on her face. She had long, sweeping black hair that flowed down past her waist in a kind of elegance that Hermione could never manage, and there was something in the way she walked and her composure that seemed to scream _snobby pure blood_, though Hermione thought she had a friendly face.

"Hello, I'm Jacqueline Viridian," she said when she came to a stop in front of them, "I'm a sixth year Slytherin Prefect. I've been told you lot have transferred into Hogwarts – congratulations! We don't have many non-first year entries!"

"Pleased to meet you, Jacqueline," Hermione said politely, "I'm Hermione, this is Harry and that's Ron."

"Nice to meet you," she replied, smiling genuinely.

_I wonder if she'd be smiling so warmly if she knew we were really a bunch of Gryffindor, muggle-borns and blood traitors. _

"Well, Professor Dippet said I should show you to your rooms – apparently the dorms have been expanded already to cater for you lot. It's a bit of a walk, the castle is rather hard to get used to, I know, but you get used to it after a while! Well, come along then!"

The prefect led the way forward, with the trio following closely behind, making sure not to appear familiar with the castle. Ron even gave a loud gasp when they ran into the ghost of Nearly-Headless Nick.

Jacqueline chuckled, "I take it you've never seen a ghost before?"

"What? Oh, erm, no, I haven't," Ron replied awkwardly, pretending to be awed by the sight as he looked back at Nick over his shoulder.

"Oh, well, you wait and see, we have quite a few of them around here. That one, Nick, he's the Gryffindor ghost – a bit of a bore really, always crying about how he can't join the headless hunt – but then I guess all Gryffindors are boring, really –"

_Oh, no…_

" – the one you want to watch out for is the Bloody Baron – you'll know him when you see him, covered in blood, he is. He's the Slytherin ghost."

"How'd he get covered in blood?" Harry asked civilly, though Hermione could see he was offended on Nick's behalf.

"No one really knows," she replied, shrugging.

"So, Jacqueline," Hermione said, changing the topic, "You mentioned about Gryffindors being boring. I've read around a little, and from what I've heard of the Hogwarts houses, there seems to be a fair bit of rivalry, isn't there?"

"But of course!" Jacqueline replied, "Slytherins and Gryffindors are notorious for not getting along so well, but it's not all that bad. We can be pretty competitive with things like Quidditch and the house championships, but I still have a few friends in Gryffindor."

Ron stopped dead in his tracks in astonishment, but fortunately, as he was walking behind Jacqueline, she did not notice. Hermione pushed him to get him to keep walking.

"I think you'll find that most people have friends in different houses. I guess with Slytherins it's a little less pronounced though, because of those arrogant types who are fanatical about purity of blood and the like. But they are the minority – of course, most Slytherins will boost about how many generations of purebloods they go back to, but that doesn't mean they don't make friends with half-bloods, and they can be pretty friendly with muggle-borns most of the time too!"

"Well, I'm impressed!" Hermione said, unable to hide her grin, "I thought the rivalry was much worse than that."

"No, no, it's alright," she replied reassuringly, "Why? Were you getting nervous about it?"

"Yeh," Hermione said, giving a fake nervous laugh.

"Don't worry; I'm sure you'll be fine."

Hermione chanced a glance at Ron and Harry, both of whom looked rather broody. Hermione hoped, for their sake at least, that Jacqueline was right.

They were interrupted a moment later in the entrance hall by a friend of Jacqueline's, who seemed extremely stressed about something and was begging Jacqueline to let her borrow her notes. While she was distracted, Hermione took the chance to have a quick conversation with the two boys.

"Well, what do you think?" she whispered, "If things are anything like what Jacqueline described, I think we might be able to survive in Slytherin. I'll probably still have to pretend to be at least a half-blood, of course."

"I'd much rather be in Gryffindor and openly express my hate for everything Slytherin," Ron said moodily.

"Me too," Harry said, nodding vigorously, "Besides, I'm not sure I believe her. How could things have changed so much since this time and our time?"

"I suspect it's because this is before You-Know-Who really gained power and got to influence everyone. Besides you heard what she said, not everyone is like that. I'm sure there will be the few Malfoys, Blacks, Lestranges and the likes we'll still have to watch out for."

"Sorry about that," Jacqueline said, after joining them once her friend had run off, "That was Andrea, you'll meet her soon enough."

They continued on to the Slytherin common room (password: serpent), which turned out to be much less cosy than what the Gryffindors had been accustomed too. Rather than circular, it was long, with a low ceiling from which green-tinted lamps were hanging. The walls were made of rough stone. However the green carpet was nice and thick, the elaborate fire place burning brightly and the scattered couches looked inviting. Only a hand full of students were seated there, some of them looking curiously at the newcomers.

"That corridor leads to the boys' dormitory," Jacqueline said, indicating to a wide stone corridor on her right, "Technically I'm not supposed to show you in there, because it's a boy's only area, but I'm sure you'll be able to find it for yourself. It's the fifth or sixth door to the end, and has a plaque that says sixth year on it."

Rather reluctantly, Harry and Ron made their way to the corridor, both of them looking rather awkward. Ron was even glaring at the corridor as though it had personally wronged him. Hermione left them, and followed Jacqueline to the girl's dormitory, which was on the left hand side. Their room was the fifth door to the right, with a rather elegant plaque reading "Sixth Years" attached to it.

The room itself was remarkably similar to the Gryffindor dormitory she was accustomed to, though rather than being round, it was rectangular, and the bed sheets were coloured stunning emerald green rather than red.

"Oh, look, they've already set a bed out for you!" Jacqueline said, indicating at a bed in the furthest part of the room, "They don't seem to have brought up your things yet, though."

Unlike the other four beds, whose cabinet tops and wardrobes were covered with personally belongings, Hermione's was completely bare except for the bed covers. She did not bother explaining to Jacqueline that she had no possessions yet and she proceeded to show Hermione around the dormitory and the bathrooms, after which they went back into the common room.

A quick look around told her that Harry and Ron were not there.

"Do you think the boys are still looking at their dorm?" she asked Jacqueline.

"They might," she replied, and turned to a boy who looked like a fifth year and asked, "Hey Herbert, you haven't seen two new kids coming out of the boys dorms have you?"

The boy looked up at Jacqueline from where he was seated, "That guy with the messy black hair and the tall red-head with freckles?"

"That's them," she replied.

"Yeh, they got dragged outside by Abraxas, something about showing them around the castle."

"What?" Jacqueline replied, looking exasperated, "That fool – he could have at least asked! I was meant to stay with them until they were ready to see Professor Slughorn!"

"Who's Abraxas?" Hermione asked, worried about what a frustrated and annoyed Ron, who could only behave more recklessly being in a time period they did not belong to, might do to the unsuspecting Slytherin.

"Only the most obnoxious, loathsome, arrogant little fool you're ever likely to come across in your life. Him and his stupid _I-own-the-world-because-my-father-is-rich_ attitude, pure blood mania and pathetic white blonde hair. Pretentiousness, thy name is Abraxas Malfoy."

Hermione smiled, realising that she was starting to like Jacqueline more and more by the minute.

"It seems to be a trait of those Malfoys, doesn't it? All those things you've mentioned."

"Oh, you've met a Malfoy before, have you?"

"I've heard of them," Hermione replied vaguely, "Well, anyway, what are we going to do about Ron and Harry?"

"Oh, well, I was meant to take you and the others to see Professor Slughorn in his office in about an hours time, but we can't really go without the others. Tell you what, how about you wait here and I'll go see if I can find them? It'll be quicker if I go myself, because I know my way around. Is that okay?"

"That's fine," Hermione said.

After Jacqueline ran off, Hermione looked nervously around the common room. Now that she was alone, she felt terribly out of place. She wondered how many of the people sitting around her, many of whom were occasionally glancing at her curiously from the corner of their eye, would want her to be removed from Slytherin house if they knew she was muggle-born?

_I'll have to keep that little secret to myself._

A few minutes later, when she was sure that Jacqueline would be far away from the common room, Hermione, never having intended to waste her time waiting, left the common room and made her way through the castle towards the Room of Requirement. However, she was still climbing the stairs when she crossed paths with Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, Miss Jean!" he said pleasantly.

"Oh, hello, Professor," she replied nervously, blushing as she remembered her embarrassing encounter earlier that morning.

"I see you've finished with your meeting with Headmaster Dippet. Good news I hope?" he enquired.

"Yes, Professor, he's graciously allowed us to enroll at Hogwarts."

"And have you been sorted yet?"

"Yes, we have. We were all sorted into Slytherin," she admitted hesitantly, wondering whether it would give Dumbledore any reason to regard them suspiciously, "I'd have preferred Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, to be honest," she added for good measure.

"Is that so?" Dumbledore said, looking amused, "Gryffindor happens to be my own house. A noble house, if I might say," he added, his eyes twinkling, "Though I am sure you will grow to love Slytherin. I've yet to meet a person who does not grow the house into which they have been sorted."

_I very much doubt that, especially with the like__s of Malfoy sharing our common room._

"But where are you friends, Misters Evans and Wesley? And I believe you were to be shown around by your guide?"

"Yes, Professor, but it appeared that Harry and Ron were discovered by a student who seemed excited by their arrival and dragged them out of the common room. Jacqueline is out looking for them now."

"Ah, I see. And did she leave you all alone?"

"Only after asking my permission, Professor."

"And you seem awfully familiar with the castle – wandering around without a guide!"

Hermione fought back a blush as she felt her heart beating faster.

"Oh, no, Professor, I asked a student in the common room for directions to the library. I don't think I could have gotten around myself otherwise," she said hastily.

"Ah, the library," he said, his eyes twinkling, "You seem very keen! You haven't even started lessons yet."

"I know, but I couldn't resist – I've always loved books and reading, and I've heard that Hogwarts has an extremely extensive range of books, some of which go back centuries!" she replied, hoping the answer would satisfy him rather than rouse suspicion.

He merely chuckled however, and said, "Indeed! Well, I suppose I shouldn't keep you, of you go, enjoy yourself. Good day to you, Miss Jean."

"Goodbye, Professor," she said, hoping her relief at the end of the conversation was not too obvious.

Now that she had given her excuse to Dumbledore, she had no choice but to go to the library but it was on her way there that a terrible thought struck her, causing her to stop mid-step.

_What if he had tried to read my mind?_

Her legs felt like they had turned to jelly, and she reproached herself for not having considered that possibility earlier. She calmed herself, reminding herself that she would have felt it if he had tried to read her mind and that even if he did try, she had developed enough skill of her own to block him.

_But Harry and Ron haven't._

She realised then how very vulnerable they were – how easily Dumbledore could learn of all their secrets. She shuddered as the image of Dumbledore searching through Ron's defenceless mind appeared to her, revealing everything that should most certainly be kept secret.

She took a step forward, moving slowly towards the library, idea after idea racing through her mind as she searched for a way to protect themselves, though each idea was more feeble than the last. There was no way she could teach Ron Occlumency soon enough, it would take weeks, months even, and Harry had never really mastered it either. She had had trouble learning it herself, and had only managed because of her sheer determination to success and the knowledge that she might have been able to help Harry learn if she had succeeded herself. She quickened her pace, hoping to find some useful information in the library that might make her desired task more achievable.

A moment later the library door appeared before her and just as she was about to enter, she saw a familiar, youthful face making it's way out of the library at top speed, a face which wore an expression of great joy and excitement, before the body to which that face was attached collided directly with her, sent a searing pain through her nose and causing to fall flat on her back. She lay there for barely half a second before she heard a worried voice addressing her.

"My apologies. I didn't see you there. Are you okay?" the student said, stepping besides her and offering her his arm. Hermione took it, and noticed immediately that as the student leaned forward to help her up, a necklace fell forward from behind his school shirt. She realised with a spark of excitement that it was the prefect she had seen in the library.

"That's okay," she said, as she accepted his hand and he helped her up, "Don't worry about it."

As soon as he had let go of her hand, she pretended to look over her clothing to make sure everything was in place and that she was not hurt, and made sure that her necklace was entirely hidden.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" he asked.

"No, no, I'm fine," she insisted, as she rubbed her still sore nose, her eyes lingering on his necklace.

His eyes followed her gaze, which she tried to avert, but not before he had realised what she was looking at. The faintest look of annoyance flickered across his face (which, she noticed how in the sunlight, was extremely handsome) so quickly that Hermione thought she had imagined it, as barely a moment later his expression reverted to a kind of emotionless mask that one could only really describe as polite indifference. He quickly tucked it back under his shirt in what appeared to be a very casual movement.

"I like that necklace," Hermione said, forcing herself to wear an expression of polite interest, "It's very beautiful – and must be worth fortune."

"Oh, I suspect it must be worth a few galleons at least," he said offhandedly, "Nothing special."

_A few? Maybe make that a few hundred!__ He obviously (and perhaps wisely) doesn't want to talk about it. He probably doesn't even want anyone to know it exists._

Apparently wanting to draw her attention away from the necklace, he pointedly directed his gaze to her outfit.

"Shouldn't you be wearing your uniform?" he asked, raising a dark eyebrow in disprovable. "You know I'll have to report that, don't you?" he added, indicating at his prefect's badge, "Who is your head of house?"

"Professor Slughorn," Hermione replied.

"Come now," he replied said, looking exasperated and condescendingly disbelieving, "You must know that I'm a Slytherin, and surely you must have realised that _I_ would realise that I've never seen you in Slytherin house before? Who is your _real_ head of house? Answer honestly please; don't make me deduct any points, now."

"But I am in Slytherin," Hermione said, smiling nervously, "I've just started at Hogwarts today, as have my two friends. Which explains why I'm not wearing my uniform – I haven't bought one yet."

He looked at her sceptically, and Hermione did not blame him, knowing how unheard of late entry into Hogwarts is.

"You don't believe me, but I assure you, it's true. How else would I know that the Slytherin common room is a green-carpeted dungeon accessible by a corridor from the Entrance hall, whose password is serpent and contains girl's dormitories to the left and boys dormitories to the right?" she replied, with only a hint of smugness.

He smiled, a somewhat haughty smile, and said, "You raise a strong argument. You're name is…?"

"Hermione Jean."

"In that case, I shall enquire about this. If you will excuse me Miss Jean, I have business to attend to, good day to you."

And with a small nod of the head, he walked away. Hermione noticed how confidently he walked, with a determined step.

_Merlin's Beard. How am I ever going to get any information out of this guy? _

* * *

**A/N - please let me know what you think!****i.e. review! :D**_  
_


	4. Tom Riddle

**Chapter 4**

"Yes, Professor."

"And your textbooks should arrive by owl this evening; they will be delivered directly to your dormitories. And I believe your uniforms are already there, waiting for you. I had a house elf make the delivery."

"Thank you, Professor."

Professor Slughorn beamed at them. Even though they had been seated in his office for the past twenty minutes, Hermione was still having trouble becoming accustomed to seeing her potions master so young. He was not yet as fat as he would become and his moustache was much smaller and gingery-blond rather than silver. He even had hair – thick, straw-coloured _hair_. However, his love to surround himself with anyone and everyone he deemed influential, or potentially so, remained the same.

"I look forward to seeing what you three will be able to offer Slytherin. And don't forget, you will be introduced to the school at dinner today. Miss Viridian will collect you from the Slytherin common room just before six. Good day to you!"

A moment later they were standing in the corridor outside the potion master's office, quite alone.

"Blimey," said Ron, "I though he'd never end!"

"I know, me too," agreed Hermione, while looking up and down the corridor, as though to make sure there was no one else there, "I have something to tell you guys, come here."

She walked up to a classroom and, finding that it was empty, opened the door and indicated for Harry and Ron to follow her.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked anxiously as they followed her.

Hermione did not reply until the door had been closed behind them, and magically locked. Harry and Ron both sat down at a table near the front of the class but Hermione remained standing, too anxious and excited to sit still.

"Listen – I bumped into Dumbledore again today," she said, "and I realised something – what if he tries to read our minds? He'd find out everything!"

"Why would he try to read out minds?" Ron said, appalled.

"I don't know," replied Harry, looking meaningful, "But I've always had this terrible feeling that Snape often tried to read my mind."

"Don't you realise?" Hermione said impatiently, "If he ever suspects us, or doubts our story, or anything – reading our minds will probably be the first thing he does! I mean, it's not like our story is totally believable, three orphaned teenagers appearing out of nowhere. All he would have to do was a background check and he'd realise there is no trace of us anywhere."

"Well, what can we do?" Harry asked, "I mean, I learned so much from Snape, I might be able to block him if I tried really hard, but I'd have to know he was trying to read my mind, and even then…" he said, trailing off and shrugging.

"Look, I know it will be too hard for us to actually learn Occlumency properly – I mean, I can do about as much as you know Harry, but it won't be enough. This is Dumbledore we're talking about, he isn't going to make it obvious that he's doing it. More likely than not, we won't even know if he's trying to access our minds."

"So," Ron said slowly, "Basically what you're saying is, we're screwed?"

To both Ron and Harry's surprise, Hermione actually smiled.

"Well, no, that's just the thing. I don't think we are."

"You have a plan?" Harry asked hopefully, straightening up in this seat.

"I think I just might. Remember how you found me in the library earlier? Well, I was looking up books on Occlumency to see if I could find us a way out, and I came across something in a book I had looked at ages ago, in fifth year. It's basically a spell that mimics the effects of Occlumency and gives a person the upper hand. It creates a constant block, in other words, the barrier is up all the time. So, it doesn't matter that the person can't do Occlumency, you don't need to, because the spell does it for you, and so even if you don't know if someone is trying to read your mind, you're still protected!"

Harry looked aghast.

"What a minute," he said angrily, "If this spell exists, how come Dumbledore didn't just use it on me, instead of making me spend all that time learning with Snape?"

"Well, that's the thing, Harry! In the late 70's You-Know-Who actually came up with a way to not only get around the barrier, to use it to weaken the person's defences and allow better access into their thoughts! That's why it was rarely used in our times – it was too dangerous. But we're in the forties; the spell hasn't been invented yet, so we're safe!"

"Excellent, Hermione," Ron said, beaming, "What does this spell involve? Do you think we'd – what am I saying, we? – do you think _you'd_ be able to cast it?"

"It does seem simple enough. I've been practising it a little, and I think I've got the hang of it. I've already tried it on myself," she admitted.

"You did?" Harry asked, looking shocked, "Did it work? Was it safe?"

"Well, the book said if it worked a warm sensation should flow through the person's head, and that's exactly what I felt," she said, "And I can cast it on you both, right now, if you'd trust me to do it."

"Yeah, of course!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione approached him and placed the tip of her wand at his temple.

"Now, don't move. I mean it. If you move, it could go wrong," Hermione warned, "It's only takes a second, but the sensation lasts a little longer. Ready?"

"Ready," Ron said, taking care not to move his head.

"On the count of three, one, two, three – _tego texi tectum_!" she exclaimed.

There was a small flash of bright red light, and –

"Ow!" Ron cried, his hands reaching up to hold his head.

"What happened?" Harry exclaimed anxiously, jumping up from his seat.

"Nothing – that is to say, it worked," Hermione said, beaming, "It's meant to hurt a little."

"A little?" Ron moaned, "That was terrible! Why didn't you warn me?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't cooperate if I told you!" she replied, exasperated, "Harry? Ready for your turn?"

He nodded, looking determined. Hermione repeated the spell on him, and, whether because he had a warning or simply had a high pain threshold, he took the pain a lot better than Ron did.

"Excellent, so it looks like we're safe for now," Hermione said, "Well, come on, let's go. We need to get our things from the Room of Requirement."

However, as they made their way to the Room of Requirement, students were making their way out of class, and, being out of uniform and looking unfamiliar, they naturally attracted the curious glances of many of the students. Needless to say, they were all happy to finally arrive at the Room of Requirement, where there was no one to stare at them.

"Hey, isn't it lunchtime now?" Ron said as he noticed the food left over from their breakfast.

"Yes, it is. Do you want to go?" Hermione said, "Because I certainly don't. Didn't you see how they were all staring at us? I'd rather wait until we're formally introduced."

"Same here. Plus, I don't want to see that Malfoy idiot, either," Ron said darkly, "The less of I see of him, the better. I don't think I'll be able to last much longer without hexing him if he doesn't leave us alone."

"Me too. He's almost as bad as his grandson," Harry said, as he picked up a cheese sandwich left over from breakfast. Though Ron sat down to join him, Hermione was not feeling hungry and instead made herself comfortable in a quiet corner with the books she had collected from the library.

She started with the _Famous Treasures of the Hogwarts Four, _remembering that it was the book the student had been looking at while she watched him. She set the book down on a table (it was too heavy to hold while reading it) and opened it to the introduction, and read:

_The original version of the _Famous Treasures of the Hogwarts Four_ was written by the order of the Headmaster of Hogwarts some many hundred years ago. At that time, many of the famous treasures and relics mentioned in this book were only known to the Wizarding world because of the stories that would be passed down from one generation of former Hogwarts students to the next. As time passed, many of these treasures and relics have been discovered and proven to be real, while others that had been known and kept locked away at Hogwarts, or with the descendents of the four founders, at the time of the original publication have vanished. Some, as we shall see, have not been seen for hundreds of years, while others surface every few decades, only to mysteriously disappear again._

_While the relics and treasures may come and go, one thing has remained the same over the years, and that is the fervent desire of wizards and witches to possess and manipulate the relics for their own personal use. Many a decent witch and wizard has become a manipulator, a liar, a traitor, a thief and even a murderer in their quest to possess the treasures and relics mentioned in these pages, and so we issue this stern warning. The power of many of these treasures is immense, and so the danger they pose to those who own them and those who seek them is multiplied. Many of these treasures are dangerous to the possessor in and of themselves. Let not greed deceive you, the reader, into seeking these objects, because it is more likely that you will be seeking your own demise. _

Hermione stopped reading to look at the necklace around her neck. Could it possibly be one of the dangerous relics the book had warned against? An imperceptible shiver passed through her body, not knowing what harm the necklace was doing, or might bring to her.

She returned her attention to the book, focusing on the contents page. She could see that some thirty odd relics were listed, and that many pages were devoted to each one, some more than others. Some caught her attention immediately, such as Salazar Slytherin's golden locket, which, if harnessed correctly, could protect a person from the Dark Arts, and a golden cup that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. She recognised them immediately as the objects You-Know-Who had chosen to use as his horcruxes. Hermione found herself enthralled in the pages of the book, amazed at the skill and imagination of the founders. She was awestruck by a ring crafted by Gordric Gryffindor, which apparently had the power to make the wearer "more courageous than a thousand knights", and was delighted by Ravenclaw's diadem, which was reported to give the wearer outstanding intelligence, but which had been missing since Ravenclaw's death. Some of the treasures, however, were downright evil and extremely dangerous, and it came to no surprise to Hermione that they were mostly those created by Slytherin. One of the worst was a knife which, when held by a muggleborn witch or wizard, would force the person holding it to stab him or herself. The wound it caused could not be healed. Fortunately, the knife had long been destroyed, though not before many muggle-born students had been killed.

Hard as she searched, however, Hermione could not find a single reference to a jewel incrusted necklace which had the ability to send a person back in time. The only thing that came close was a ring that could not be removed until an act of great loyalty had been performed by the wearer. Needless to say, that ring was the invention of Helga Hufflepuff.

One point that intrigued her in particular about the necklace was that it contained the colours of all the Hogwarts houses. The relics mentioned in the book were always attributed to only one of the founders, except for a few rare cases where two of the founders had worked together on an item. But never was there an object in the book that had any sign of all four of the founders. This gave her an excited sort of reassurance. If all the founders had added their magic to the necklace; it was unlikely that there would be anything too sinister about it.

A little while later, Harry and Ron joined her in her search, attempting to find a reference to the necklace in the book _Hogwarts Greatest Secrets_. By five thirty, however, they had found nothing.

Hermione looked up to the sound of a book slamming shut.

"There's nothing in there, Hermione," Ron said, yawning loudly without covering his mouth, "At least not in the first hundred pages. That just leaves, how much was it? 276 pages to go."

Hermione closed her own book (which she had already finished searching) and sighed.

"There isn't anything about it in there either, but one thing is for certain – if this thing really did belong to the founders, you can guarantee that it's magical. Very magical. It's likely to be more powerful than any object we've ever come across. It's one thing to have an object that was manipulated by one founder, but all four? Can you imagine if they all worked their magic on this necklace?" she said.

"How do you know they all performed their magic on it?" Harry asked. He was sitting back in his seat, looking exhausted.

"It's simple – it has all the house colours on it. All the items mentioned in the book have only one, at most two, signs of one of the founders. Frankly, it's exhilarating to think I'm wearing something so powerful around my neck. Exhilarating, but scary. Who knows what magic it contains? Even if it isn't dangerous, or dark, it might still have unwanted consequences."

Harry eyed the necklace wearily.

"The sooner we figure out what that thing does, the better," he said, "Not only so it doesn't harm you, but so we can figure out how to get home. This whole thing is just all too weird."

"What do you think will happen if we can't get back?" Ron asked gloomily.

"Don't say that," Hermione said fiercely, "We will get back. It might not happen overnight, but we will. Even if it means we have to break in to the Department of Mysteries and steal a time turner. We _will_ get back."

"Oh, so _now_ you're willing to break the law? After we've already enrolled?" said Ron.

Hermione only rolled her eyes in reply.

"Come on, let's go. We still have to get changed before dinner."

"I don't want to go in there now! It's probably packed!" Ron exclaimed, "Harry, bring out your cloak. I don't want anyone asking who the hell we are."

"We can't go into the common room while covered in the cloak!" Hermione objected, "We'll be sure to bump into someone at this time, it's packed! Besides, I have to go to girls' dorms."

"Fine," Ron agreed, though reluctantly.

As it turned out, once they had arrived, they found the Slytherin common room entirely empty.

"Oh no, are we late?" Hermione asked, as she looked around the dungeon like room for a clock. Her eyes landed on a rather old though entirely exquisite clock she had not noticed earlier.

"Two to six," Harry read, having also noticed the clock.

"Oh no, we can't be late! It's the first day! What a bad impression we'll make!"

"Relax, Hermione," said Ron, he looked around the room with an expression of distaste, "If they ask, we can just pretend we got lost."

Hermione paid no attention to him however and hurried to the girls dormitories. She stopped at the door and turned around.

"You two hurry up and get dressed! I'll meet you back here," she ordered before hurrying up the stairs.

In her dorm, which was also empty, she found her uniform lying on the bed neatly, waiting for her. She hurriedly put it on, only sparing a few seconds to check her appearance in the mirror to make sure it fit properly. She was satisfied with the results – it fit just as well as her old uniform had.

However when she went back down to the common room, Harry and Ron were not there. She tutted impatiently and thought of going into their dorms to tell them off, when –

"Hermione Jean."

Hermione gasped at the sound of the voice, and turned to see a student standing by the empty fire place. It was him. Her eyes involuntarily darted to his neck, but the necklace, if it was still there, was covered by his uniform.

"Oh, hello. I didn't realise anyone else was here," she replied, her heart still racing from the shock.

"I was here all along. Even your friends didn't notice me, though they spent about a minute in here before they went up to change. You lot don't seem very perceptive," he replied, raising an eyebrow.

"We are perceptive," she said defensively, "We just didn't see you, you must have been hidden behind one of those large sofas."

"I still think you'd have seen me if you were perceptive enough. Is that why you only got Exceeds Expectations in DADA OWL? Because you miss things like that?" he asked.

Hermione stared at him in shock.

"How – how did you know –"

"How do I know about your EE? Or your ten O's, for that matter?" he said, as he moved away from the mantle piece, slowly walking towards her. His eyes, eerily illuminated by the lamps over head, locked on hers, and, as intimidating as he was at that moment, she found that she could not look away, "It doesn't matter how I know. But I must admit I find it rather – curious."

He had come to a stop barely a meter in front of her and struck a rather tall, imposing stance – his hands were crossed across his chest, his head cocked to one side as he considered her with an intense, curious gaze that made Hermione fell incredibly uncomfortable, as though she was being sized up. As awkward and strange as the situation was, she did not cower in front of him; rather she stood tall and held her head up high.

"Curious?" she said, raising an eyebrow, "And why would that be?"

"Curious," he repeated, "Because, other than one person who had received twelve Outstanding OWL's, it's been a long time since any Hogwarts student had received more than seven O's."

"Oh? And who might that be?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in mild exasperation, suspecting she already knew the answer to the question.

"Me," he said.

Hermione did not miss the faint, haughty smirk that spread across his face, and scowled internally at the challenge implied in his words. Her face was carefully composed into an expression of indifference. If it were not that she was determined to stay on his good side, for the sake of the necklace, she would have had a few retorts of her own.

"I expect that home schooling doesn't offer much room for competition, especially with those two –" he indicated over his shoulder at the boys' dormitory, and Hermione's annoyance deepened at the attack on her friends " – as your only class mates. I look forward to seeing what you can do."

And then, with a last haughty smile in her direction, he crossed the room, opened the door and stepped outside. The door was closing on it's own accord when Hermione, who had been left surprised – and, admittedly, somewhat excited – by the challenge and the proud way that it has been delivered, regathered her wits and called out after him.

"Wait!" she called out, running towards the door and holding it open. He was already walking away, but had stopped just before turning around the corner and looked at her, "At least let me know the name of my self declared competitor," she said, in a mocking tone.

"Tom," he replied, with a smirk, and then added, just before he disappeared around the corner, "Tom Riddle."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She felt her heart stop, and then resume again at a frantic pace. She ran back into the common room, letting the door close behind her. Her legs felt like jelly and, no longer strong enough to support her, she fell to her knees.

_Tom Riddle?__ The Tom Riddle? Tom Marvolo Riddle?!_

"No, no way, it's impossible," she said to herself, "It's impossible, it's a coincidence. It's impossible."

"What's a coincidence?" she heard Ron ask.

She whipped her head around to face the boys' dormitories, from which Harry and Ron had just emerged. As soon as they saw the expression of terror on her face, they both ran to her side.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" demanded Ron as he and Harry pulled her to her knees, "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Here, Ron, bring her over to that armchair," Harry said, but Hermione, who had quickly regathered her wits, pulled herself free from their grasps.

"No, no, I'm fine," she said frantically, "Listen, Harry, Ron, I don't know how to say this but – you won't believe me, it's terrible, I know, but it's true, I mean, it has to be true, who else could he possibly be? I'm so sorry I didn't realise earlier, but I've never seen what he looked like when he was younger –"

"Wow, Hermione, slow down," Ron said, "Who are you talking about?"

"You know that student? The one with the necklace?" she said, her heart still racing.

"Yes," Harry said slowly, "What about him?"

"Harry – he's, he's –"

She stopped, realising that Harry might not take the news so well. She contemplated not telling him, but immediately scrapped the idea, realising he would find out eventually.

"Tom Riddle," she whispered, "He's Tom Riddle."

There was a stunned silence.

"What?" Harry whispered after a moment, "What did you just say?"

"Tom Riddle. He was here, when we came in! We didn't see him; he was sitting by the fire. He just told me now; he said his name was Tom Riddle, before he left! And – oh no, he's in sixth year too! He's going to be sharing your dorm!"

Ron looked appalled.

"Are you telling me that I'm going to be sleeping in the same dorm as a young You-Know-Who?" he exclaimed, "Merlin's beard! Merlin's freaking, braided beard! I'm not sharing a room with that psycho! He's going to kill us in our sleep! Harry, what are we going to do? Harry? Hello? Harry?"

But Harry did not reply to him. In fact, he did not even seem to hear him. He was starring intensely at the carpet, his jaw tensed determinedly. One of his arms reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. Hermione recognised the look immediately, having anticipated it. He was planning on doing something rash, something stupid.

"Harry, no," Hermione said warningly.

"Why?" he roared, looking away from the carpet and kicking a near by armchair, "Why not? Why bloody not?"

Ron looked dumbstruck between the two of them, not having followed the conversation.

"Harry, you can't!" she exclaimed, "You can't change the time line!"

"WHO CARES ABOUT THE TIME LINE! He killed my mum and dad!" he shot back angrily, "Why shouldn't we stop him? We could kill him ourselves! We could end it all, before it even happens! Just imagine, no Voldemort! No death eaters, no war! This is our chance, we could save everyone!"

Hermione stared at him in horror, with tears in her eyes, "We can't Harry, we can't! Even if we could fix everything, we'd be thrown into Azkaban! He hasn't done anything yet, Harry. No one is going to believe us. No one. We'll rot in jail for the rest of our lives."

"We don't have to get caught – we could run away," suggested Ron, who wore a hard, determined expression.

"Ron, do you want to like the way Sirius did? And we can't even disguise ourselves the way he did. Besides, if we kill him, what does that mean for our future? How can we go back knowing we've changed everything? We'll be going back to a world we don't even know! We don't even know if will be able to go back! For all we know, we might not even be born!"

"What does our birth have to do with You-Know-Who?" asked Ron incredulously.

"How do you know stopping You-Know-Who won't just make room for someone else to declare himself Dark Lord? Everything would be different; our parents could be killed by him, or even our grandparents. Hogwarts might be closed, and your parents might never have met! Don't you see what happens when you meddle with time? It's unpredictable!"

She turned to Harry, who's expression seemed to be wavering.

"Please Harry," she pleaded, "Please, don't do anything rash. It won't work the way you want it to. It – it won't bring back your parents."

He looked away from her and walked towards the fire place. He moved his hands discreetly, though Hermione was sure he was wiping away a tear. Ron watched after him grimly.

Harry turned around and walked back towards them, looking grim, though determined.

"Okay. Okay, _fine_. I won't do it," he said.

Hermione felt a rush of gratitude towards him, "Thank you, Harry. I know how much this means to you, I know it can't be easy, but it's the right thing to do, you'll see."

"So we're just going to leave him?" said Ron impatiently, "We're just going to let him do all that stuff he's going to do when he gets older?"

"Ron, do you have any better ideas?" Hermione said earnestly, "Because if you do, I'm ready to hear them. You can't possibly think I'm not tempted by this chance as well, but we can't just run headlong into something this!"

"Fine," he replied bitterly, "But I'm not sharing a room with that freak!"

"Look, come on, its five past six," Hermione said, "We have to get going. And – listen, there's every chance that you might be introduced to Tom, and you might even have to sit near him – just, just try to be civil, please? We have to; we don't want anyone to be suspicious."

Neither Harry nor Ron looked to happy about this, but they both nodded reluctantly. There was not much more that Hermione could do other than hope for the best as they made their way out of the common room and towards the Great Hall in silence. It was then that a terrible realisation struck her.

_I've just been challenged by the Dark Lord._

* * *

**A/N - Hope you liked the chapter! Special thanks to my beta again for doing a great job! Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And for all those people adding my story to their favs/alerts - thanks, but I'd appreciate some reviews as well! Even its it's a one liner! :)****Feedback about the way I write Tom is especially essential!   
**


	5. The Legend

**Chapter 5**

Once in the Entrance Hall, they spotted Professor Slughorn waiting anxiously outside the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Ah, there you are!" he said when he spotted them, looking relieved.

"Sorry for being late, Professor," Hermione said once they had crossed the Entrance Hall. "We got a little lost."

"Not to worry, not to worry," he said, beaming at the three of them, "If you'll just follow me inside, Professor Dumbledore will introduce you to the students. Normally Professor Dippet would have done so, however he has an important meeting to attend and will not be having dinner with the rest of us today."

The three followed Slughorn into the Great Hall, which was full with staff and students enjoying their dinner. Hermione's eyes flew automatically to the Slytherin table where she spotted Riddle sitting amongst a group of boys, amongst them a blond boy who could only be Abraxas Malfoy. Hermione was not surprised to see that he was seated in the centre of the group, even though he had arrived late.

Hermione looked over at Harry, who had followed her gaze and was looking at Riddle with a look of pure loathing. Hermione nudged him, and gave him a reproachful look. He scowled, but looked away from Riddle.

They followed Professor Slughorn up to the staff table, stopping when they reached Professor Dumbledore's seat. He smiled kindly when he saw them and stood up, clearing his throat loudly. Silence fell over the hall in a matter of seconds, with all heads turned towards the Deputy Headmaster, their eyes moving between him and the three unfamiliar students.

"Good evening, students! It is my pleasure to present to you three new additions to our student body. Most unusually, though not unheard of, they will be starting here in their sixth year, and have all been sorted into Slytherin house."

Hermione noticed some surprised and curious faces at the Slytherin table, with many of the occupants whispering to each other.

"Allow me to introduce Miss Hermione Jean –" Hermione gave a nervous little wave "- Mister Harry Evans and Mister Ron Wesley."

Both Harry and Ron waved as well, and there was a scatter of mildly interested applause.

"I trust that all those of Slytherin house, and all sixth years in particular will go out of –"

_BANG_.

A loud blast echoed through out the Great Hall, causing Professor Dumbledore to stop and everyone in the hall to start in surprise. Several people screamed. Hermione, like everyone else, looked around for the source of the noise, thinking that perhaps Peeves was up to his usual mischief, or that some Fred and George equivalent of this time had decided to set of fire works. But she could not see anything that seemed out of the ordinary, until –

"Look!" a young girl at the Ravenclaw table cried, pointing towards the wall behind the head table. All heads turned towards the wall. Hermione, Ron and Harry spun around on their spots and the teachers all twisted around in their chairs to look. It was a remarkable site to behold. The large section of the stone wall looked as though it were being sanded down by an invisible hand, until the surface was flat, though still rough. Then, when Hermione thought it was all over, small amounts of bright, red liquid began to seep out from the wall itself in patches.

Hermione exchanged puzzled looks with Harry and Ron, while everyone in the Hall watched on in silence. Soon, it became clear that the liquid was some sort of ink, for it was arranging itself into letters, which then moved across the wall to rearrange themselves into words. Almost as quickly as it had started, the letters stopped moving. Hermione read the words quickly, and could not help but allow a gasp to escape her lips as her hands flew out to hold on tightly to Ron's arm which, she only just noticed, had turned extremely stiff. She could distantly make out the sound of excited and confused murmuring coming from the students behind her. She read the words again, as though to reassure herself that they were real.

_The Chamber of Secrets has been open__ed. Enemies of the heir, beware!_

Hermione's eyes travelled to Professor Dumbledore, who still had his back turned to her, looking up at the message. Other staff members, most of whom Hermione did not recognise, were exchanging nervous looks. Some looked scared, others downright confused. And yet some, like Professor Slughorn, looked disbelieving. He was even smiling.

"We seem to have found ourselves a prankster with some knowledge of Hogwarts mythology," he said to a woman sitting next to him. She did not seem to share his opinion however, and was glancing nervously at Professor Dumbledore.

Hermione, knowing fully well that it was no prank looked across the Hall at the only person who could have written the message. She saw Riddle staring at the message, looking confused and interested, and occasionally commenting on what his friends were saying. Most of them looked confused, just like the rest of the students, although Hermione noticed to her disgust that Abraxas Malfoy looked excited and was talking eagerly to his friends, no doubt explaining about the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione noticed Jacqueline, who was sitting a few seats down from him, listening in on their conversation and looking appalled. Hermione felt a rush of gratitude towards her. She looked back at Riddle, who was now looking at the staff members. His expression was still the same and she felt a strong anger and hatred rise within her.

A second loud bang rang through the Hall, causing Hermione to jump and look away from Riddle. Everyone looked back at the writing on the wall, as though expecting the sound to have come from it, and they were not disappointed. A large area of wall above the writing began to crumble away, about a metre across and two metres high. There were many startled cries and screams, and Hermione felt herself being pulled backwards by Ron, as dust and small pieces of stone fell their way. A moment later however, Dumbledore had set up some sort of invisible barrier that caused all the dust and stone (some rather large ones included) to slide towards one unoccupied side of the hall.

There was no sound other that of the small part of the wall slowly crumbling away as everyone watched on and that of chairs scraping the ground as startled and appalled teachers got out of their seats. Soon, the section of wall had fallen apart completely, and through the dust, Hermione could make out a dark figure slowly floating forward out of the wall. It came to a stop just in front of the wall, and then, suddenly, as though it had been conjured away, the dust disappeared and there was a collective gasp as everyone realised the dark figure was in fact a teenaged boy. He was completely still, an expression of terror on his frozen face. Hermione had seen the expression too many times before to be in any doubt. He had been petrified.

"Peter! Peter!" a shrill scream rang across the hall. Hermione's head turned to see a young girl – perhaps a second or third year, jump up from her seat and run forward, "Peter! Is he alive? Professor Dumbledore, _is he alive_?"

The girl's screams seemed to have ignited the impending sense of panic that had been threatening to burst in the hall, and students started screaming and jumping up from their seats. Hermione could see that some were crying. She looked at Ron and Harry. Ron was looking grimly at the teenaged boy suspended above them while Harry, with an expression of great anger, had his gaze fixed on Riddle, who had managed to rather successfully pretend to be as shocked as everyone else, though perhaps not as scared.

"Silence! Silence!" roared Professor Dumbledore, but it was not until he had caused a number of explosive sounds from his wand that silence fell across the hall, "You will all go to your common rooms at once! Prefects, Head Boy and Girl, direct all the students, taking care of the first, second and third years especially. Your heads of houses will you meet you in your common rooms shortly. No one is to leave their common rooms, under any circumstance. Teachers are to remain here. Now go!"

The students did not need to be told twice. Those who had still been seated sprang to their seats, while those who were already standing ran towards the doors. Hermione could see prefects rounding up students and ordering people to remain calm. At the Slytherin table, she could see Riddle, standing tall, looking much calmer than anyone else, and giving orders to first years.

"First years, stay together. There's no need to panic. Just stick together," he called out, "You! Stop pushing! I said stop. _Now_."

"Hermione, come on!" Ron called to her urgently, pulling her arm.

"What are you doing?" she asked, for he was not pulling her towards the door.

"Come on, Harry's got the cloak," he said, and she followed him to a small secluded corner where they could hide, behind the teachers' table. None of the teachers had remained at the table. Harry was nowhere to be seen. She and Ron bent down behind the table.

"Over here!" she heard Harry say, and then, without warning, the invisibility cloak was being thrown around them, and Harry appeared next to them, underneath it.

"What are you doing?" Hermione said, panicking, "We could have been seen!"

"No ones going to bother looking at us!" Harry said hurriedly, "Come on, stand up, I want to hear what Dumbledore's going to say."

They stood up altogether, carefully making sure their feet were covered. Hermione looked around and saw that half the students had already left. However, the young girl who had cried out earlier was trying desperately to fight the crowd and run towards the teachers table. Hermione could only assume that she was the boy's younger sister. Her heart when out to her.

They approached where the teachers had gathered just in time to hear Dumbledore address the assembled staff.

"Merrythought, please call the matron of the hospital wing at once. Tell her to bring the first aid kit. Pringle, Everard, Gaspard, Laurentia: patrol the corridors to make sure no students are out of bed, before returning back here. Astoria, kindly comfort Miss Alison Taylor."

While a number of teachers quickly made to leave the hall, a tall, kindly looking teacher walked towards the girl who Hermione assumed could only be Alison. She gave the crying girl a reassuring hug and spoke what Hermione assumed to be words of comfort.

She turned back to look at Professor Dumbledore, who was now looking solemnly at Peter. Without wasting anymore time, he transfigured the head table into a large stair case and climbed it until he was at the same height as the suspended figure. After casting a few spells and generally observing the boy, he levitated him down the stairs and then placed him carefully on a conjured stretcher.

The teachers and Alison all crowded around him while Professor Dumbledore scrutinized the body. It reminded her of the day they had found the petrified cat – as he had done on that day, he inspected the body, his face so close that his crooked nose almost touched him.

"What do you imagine is wrong with him? What could they have done to him?" muttered a squat, dark haired man wearing a dirt-patched hat. Hermione suspected he might have been the herbology master.

"Wake up, Peter, wake up," Alison sobbed, while Professor Astoria patted her shoulder gently, "Why won't he wake up?"

"There, there now, dear Alison, I'm sure Albus will know exactly what is wrong with him, he should be awoken in no time," soothed Professor Astoria.

"Did Merrythought say anything about the boy before she left, Kettleburn?" asked the herbology teacher.

"No, Beery, nothing," replied a younger man with dark brown hair and a strong tan who Hermione now recognised as a much younger version of the formed Care of Magical Creatures teacher, "You don't think this is Dark Arts though, do you? Surely not!"

"What else can it be?" replied Professor Beery grimly. "Nothing else would have caused Albus to look so closely for the signs of magic on the young lad's body."

"Come now, Herbert," said Professor Slughorn uncomfortably. "Dark Arts? No, no, I assure you, this is some foolish act of revenge, a prank, nothing more."

"Do you really think so?" said Professor Beery, "A prank? What about the message then? The Chamber of Secrets? You should know the legend better than the rest of us, Horace, being the head of Slytherin. And surely you must have realised that Peter here is a muggleborn – no, clearly, if the message is true, he was targeted, and there is someone here intent on ridding the school of muggleborns. If indeed it is the Heir of Slytherin at work, it would be no surprise if Mr Taylor here is dead, or close to it."

Alison gave a sob and Hermione scowled at how insensitive the professors were being. Professor Astoria seemed to be thinking along the same line.

"Really now, can't you take your conversation elsewhere? Can't you see you're distressing his sister?" she scowled.

"He is not dead, Alison," came Professor Dumbledore's voice.

All heads turned towards Professor Dumbledore, who was no longer leaning over Peter.

Alison gave a small hiccup of relief. "But what's wrong with him then?" she asked, wiping her tears away. "Why isn't he moving? Why does he look so scared?"

"It appears he is petrified."

"Can – can you fix him?" she asked meekly, while a number of teachers gasped in shock.

"We should be able to. Alison, do you know when your brother was last seen, before the attack?"

"He's been missing all day – his friends asked me earlier, they said he hadn't been to classes since morning break!" Alison said, her voice quivering.

"Thank you, Alison. Herbert, how is your crop of mandrakes coming along?"

"Very well, Professor, but still nowhere near mature enough for a draught," replied Professor Beery. He looked rather pale.

At that moment Professor Merrythought returned, followed by a middle aged woman who Hermione immediately realised must have been the Madam Pomfrey of the day.

"Madam Gladys," Professor Dumbledore said to the witch, "I believe the student may have been petrified. Please take him up to the hospital wing immediately and do any tests you require to confirm his condition, and to determine any possible cause. Miss Taylor, would you like to accompany your brother?"

Alison nodded, tears still streaming done her face, and followed Miss Phyllida, who used her wand to magically levitate the stretcher and its occupant out of the hall.

"What do we do now, Albus?" asked Professor Beery solemnly, "A petrified student? I've never heard the likes of it before! Are we to believe this is the work of the Heir of Slytherin, utilising the monster of Slytherin, the legend we have heard so much of, and scoffed so much at? Or is this the work of a prankster, as Horace suggests?"

"I'm afraid this is not the work of a prankster. Only advanced, dark magic could have petrified the student in such a way," Dumbledore said gravely, "Whether it is the work of the Heir of Slytherin, your guess is as good as mine."

"Come of it, Albus," said Professor Slughorn, looking disbelieving, "The Heir of Slytherin? Really! It is nothing but legend! A fanciful tale invented by muggle haters, attaching it to the name Slytherin to give it more credibility. Binns, this is your area of expertise. What do you say?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged astonished looks when they noticed a teacher they had failed to notice earlier – a living Professor Binns.

"The legend, as I'm sure you are all familiar with, states that Slytherin had built a secret Chamber in the castle and kept therein a monster which he intended to use to kill all muggleborn children. It is said that only his true heir will have the ability to find the Chamber and control the monster within. Of course, though many a headmaster has search for this secret chamber, it has been in vain. Neither the Chamber nor the monster have been found."

"I shall have to consult with the Headmaster about this, as well as the school governors," said Professor Dumbledore, "Until then, a search must be performed on the castle, and on this site here. I will take care of this area. The heads of houses should check up on their houses, ensure all is in order and explain to the students the situation."

"What do we tell them?" asked Professor Astoria, "We don't even know what has happened ourselves."

"The truth, Astoria. That Peter has been petrified. Though do not explain about the Chamber of Secrets. I imagine it would incite much panic. Rather indicate that it is most likely a random act, probably of revenge. Also, Astoria, as head of Hufflepuff, please contact Peter's parents as soon as possible. Apparate to their house if need be. Remember they are muggles, so be careful. We would not want them removing Alison from the school."

"Yes, Albus," she replied, and she hurried away, along with Professors Slughorn and Beery. As they were leaving, the teachers who had left earlier returned, and Albus organised them into a search team, appointing one of them to visit the Gryffindor common room for him, and they too left to search the castle. Eventually, they were left alone in the Hall with Dumbledore, who was now examining the wreckage.

"I think we should go now," Hermione mouthed, and they quietly made their way out of the Great Hall.

"I can't believe it. I bloody-well can't believe it!" Ron exclaimed when they had entered the empty Entrance Hall. "He's gone and opened the Chamber! That psycho! Did you see what he did to that kid? I reckon Ginny must have had it easy, at least he didn't make her do anything terrible like that!"

"Listen, if we hurry we might be able to catch up with Professor Slughorn and sneak in when he opens the door," Hermione said.

"What? I don't want to go back there now, we need to talk!" Harry exclaimed.

"Harry, the castle is being searched! How's it going to look if they find us breaking the rules on the first night we're here, minutes after a student was petrified? Besides, this is important – we might be able to see how Riddle is reacting to it all. Come on."

And so they hurried towards the Slytherin common room, and fortunately managed to catch up with Slughorn just before he opened the door, and slipped in quietly behind him. Though the common room was full, no one was moving as they listened intently to what Slughorn was saying, so they were able to carefully sneak in to the boys' dormitories without causing much alarm, where Harry and Ron took off the cloak and entered the common room, while Hermione, still wearing the cloak, snuck into the girls' dormitory and took it off in there, and entered the common room as discreetly as possible. She managed to catch the end of Slughorn's speech, which was a reassurance that the culprit will be caught sooner rather than later and severely punished. As soon as Slughorn left, the common room erupted in noise as students resumed their discussion of what had happened in light of the new information.

Hermione tried to find Harry and Ron. They were no longer standing where she had left them.

"Hermione, over here!"

She turned around to see Jacqueline moving towards her.

"I'm glad I found you! I thought maybe you hadn't managed to find your way back to the common room," she said, looking genuinely worried.

"Oh, no I was here the whole time," Hermione lied, "You must have missed me in the crowd. Have you seen Harry and Ron? I thought they were just ahead of me and then I lost them."

"Yeah, they're here with the rest of the sixth years," she said, "Come, we're all talking about what happened – it was pretty scary, wasn't it? I've never seen anything like it before."

"Yes, it was dreadful," Hermione replied, trying her best to act as if it was something new to her, "This kind of thing – it isn't common in Hogwarts, is it?"

"Oh, no, of course not," she replied, shaking her head, "No, the worst you'll see at Hogwarts is someone getting hurt in a game of Quidditch. This kind of thing – an attack, no that's not what Hogwarts is like at all."

They arrived at a corner of the room where Harry and Ron were sitting with a number of other people, the most notable of them being Riddle. Riddle was sitting alone in an armchair opposite Harry and Ron who were seated next to Abraxas (Hermione could see that they were not too happy with this arrangement). On another sofa, three girls were seated, and two boys and a girl (Hermione recognised Jacqueline's friend, Andrea) were seated comfortably on the floor. When Hermione and Jacqueline joined them, they were all listening to Abraxas, who seemed to be recounting everything he knew about the Chamber of Secrets.

"Of course, there's a reason its called the Chamber of Secret's – no one knows where it is, or what's inside it, or if it even exists – but legend has it that Slytherin made sure that only his true Heir would be able to access it and set the monster loose."

"And you're saying this monster – if it really exists," said a dark haired boy who was seated on the floor, sounding very sceptical, "this monster, is meant to attack all the muggleborns of the school, and get rid of them – _kill_ them even – leaving Hogwarts for pure blood students only?"

Abraxas smirked. It was an expression that was worthy of the face of Draco Malfoy. Hermione detested it.

"Exactly right, Alphard. Exactly right. And if you ask me, the sooner it gets rid of them all, the better. I'm glad it started with Taylor – shame he didn't die."

"A shame?" said Jacqueline coldly, her eyes narrowed at him harshly, "Really? Do you even understand what would have happened if he died, Malfoy? Do you imagine even for a second that Hogwarts would be the place it is today if students were being murdered left, right and centre? If things keep going at this rate, there won't even _be_ a Hogwarts – for pure-bloods or not. The ministry will close it down. Besides, what makes you think you're so safe? Who's to say this Heir is going to stick by the rules, killing only the muggleborns? For all you know you might unwittingly annoy him one day and next thing we know Abraxas Malfoy is lying petrified in the hospital wing, or worse – dead."

Hermione shuddered and her gaze flickered unintentionally to Riddle. It was exactly the kind of thing she imagined him doing – setting the basilisk loose on anyone who crossed him. At the moment however, his expression was carefully arranged so as not to give anyway his thoughts on the matter. He looked intrigued by the discussion, but giving no hint that he did indeed plan to put the basilisk to such dreadful uses.

"Come of it," Abraxas scowled, "The Ministry would never close Hogwarts for this. More likely than not they'll just make all the mudbloods leave, and I doubt the Heir would use the monster on anyone other than a mudblood, or a blood traitor perhaps. Who would be stupid enough to taint the reputation of the Chamber like that? You're just being paranoid. "

"I agree with Jacque," said Alphard, shaking his head, "I dislike Taylor as much as the next person – he's stupid and arrogant, a mix that doesn't work well even in the best of times, but that doesn't mean he deserved what happened to him. A stink bomb in his bag, perhaps a good bat-bogey curse or even a good scare – I'd laugh along with the rest of you, but this? This is extreme. It's ridiculous. It's downright cruel. And there's certainly not much in it for us."

Hermione bit back a smile – Alphard and Jacqueline had given her a new found hope in the Slytherin house. Perhaps their arguments were not as Gryffindor-esque as she'd have preferred, and a little too self-centred, but at least they were against the chamber, in principle.

"What's this, Alphard?" said one of the girls sitting on the sofa, looking at him with narrowed eyes, "Are you perhaps feeling sorry for a _mudblood_?"

"And why shouldn't I?" replied Alphard, sitting up straight, "Isn't he a wizard too? Isn't he human too? Do you want to _kill_ him for no reason other than he has muggle parents? Yes, it's unfortunate. Yes, it's not as good as being a true pure-blood, but that isn't a good enough reason for someone to _die_. You'll do well to remember that the wizarding race would have died long ago if we didn't breed with muggles. Besides, it's not like anyone of us can _choose_ our lineage. You'll remember that our own great Uncle was a blood traitor, Lucretia."

"Don't mention him to me!" Lucretia snapped.

_Incredible! I wonder if the hat had ever considered sorting him into Gryffindor. _

"Anyway," Alphard continued, ignoring her and looking around at every member of the seated group, "I'm not sure I even believe in this _Chamber_, it sounds like a load of rubbish to me – more likely that some idiot with a grudge against Taylor is responsible."

"Tom believes in it," said Andrea abruptly. She was sitting on the floor with her knees tucked in against her chest and her arms tightly around them, looking at Riddle with a fervent expression of devotion, "Don't you, Tom?"

All eyes turned to face him, and Hermione could see that he clearly held the respect of all those present. It made her sick to the stomach.

Riddle appeared to be surprised by the question and allowed a thoughtful expression to pass over his sharp features.

"I don't know what to believe," he said slowly, tilting his head to the side and stroking his chin as though in thought, "The legend of the Chamber of Secrets is interesting, though very farfetched. What kind of creature could have lived for so long and how is it that the Heir, presumably a mere student, will be able to find the Chamber when generations of Hogwarts students have failed? And of course, Slytherin's monster is meant to kill – not petrify. But then again, it takes great Dark Magic to petrify a person. No doubt there is no student in the castle capable of such magic, so the help of a monster would make sense. I think time will reveal the answer – if the attacks continue, there may be some truth in it."

Hermione bit her tongue. Hard.

_You filthy liar! Filthy, murderous liar!_

Hermione now understood why no one ever suspected him. If she had not known that he was guilty, she could have been fooled by the display as well.

Andrea looked very impressed.

"Wow, I would have never thought of it like that. You're so smart, Tom," she said, smiling at him in what she must have obviously thought was a flattering manner. Hermione thought she looked like an idiot.

"Thank you, Andrea," said Tom softly, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks, causing Andrea to giggle.

Hermione felt disgusted. She was certain that blush was fake. Jacqueline too was looking at Andrea with an exasperated expression and Lucretia gave her a sour look. Abraxas was smirking, and even Riddle betrayed a small sly smile when he thought no one was looking.

Fortunately the awkward moment was cut short by the sudden appearance of a large table in the centre of the room, laden with the dinner that had yet to be eaten. The appearance caused much distraction as hungry students rushed forward from all corners of the room, including most of the sixth years.

Jacqueline turned to Hermione.

"See what I meant about Malfoy? He's pathetic. Anyway, come on, let's get some food," she suggested, "You haven't eaten anything yet."

"You go ahead, I'll catch up in a moment; I need to have a word with Harry and Ron."

Jacqueline agreed and walked away to join the other girls while Hermione moved forward to sit in the seat Abraxas had vacated seconds ago, next to Ron.

Harry immediately leaned in towards her and Ron and whispered urgently, "We need to talk. _Now_."

"Where? We can't talk here. And people will notice if we leave," Hermione whispered back.

"Pardon me."

The sharp voice startled them all; they all looked up to see that Riddle was standing in front of them, wearing a curious though polite expression.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," he said, not sounding sorry at all, "But I don't think we've been properly introduced yet," he added, looking at Harry and Ron.

Hermione had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach – she did not like the way he was looking at them. It was too… calculating. His eyes seemed to be taking in every little detail of Harry and Ron's expressions, their movements and reactions. Most unfortunately, as Hermione noted, neither of them was doing a particularly good job at masking their displeasure.

"I'm Tom Riddle," he said, offering his hand to Ron first, who stared at it for a moment before hesitantly shaking it weakly and let go much too quickly. Riddle gave him a suspicious look before offering his hand to Harry who, fortunately, did not hesitate before shaking it but also let go hastily.

"It's our pleasure to meet you, Riddle," Hermione said quickly, hoping to cover up for them, "We're just a little shaken by what happened, back in the hall, I mean. It isn't something you expect to see at your first day at Hogwarts."

Tom looked away from the boys and at Hermione, his dark eyebrows raised slightly in a subtly incredulous way. Obviously, the boys' lack of pleasure at the meeting had not escaped his notice.

"Oh, I'm _sure_ it is, Jean." he said, the stress on the wording proving that he did not believe her, "Yes, about the incident – it's something that startled us all, I think. It was rather – unexpected. But I shouldn't be too bothered by it if I were you. Certainly, you shouldn't let it affect your academic performance – the professors have been told to expect a lot from you," he said pointedly, his eyes hinting at the challenge he had laid forward earlier.

"We tend to work well under pressure," Hermione said politely, almost coolly.

Riddle smiled a sly, mocking smile. It was enough to make her spine tingle and tickle her pride.

"How fortunate," he replied, before turning to Ron and Harry and adding, "Well, it was a _pleasure_ to meet you," he said, the scorn in his voice so subtle that a person passing by might have missed it, "I won't take up anymore of your time."

And with that he walked away.

"Git," muttered Ron, as soon as Riddle was out of earshot.

Hermione stamped on his foot.

"Ouch! What did you do that for?" he replied angrily.

"Ron, you said you would treat him normally!" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth.

"I did treat him normally!" he insisted, "Didn't I Harry?"

"No, you didn't!" Hermione replied, "You acted like his hand was contagious. That is _not_ normal. He's suspicious now!"

"Well, how am I meant to treat him? Didn't you see what he did to that guy? And then he has the audacity to act like he doesn't think the Chamber exists! Bloody git."

"Well, you don't see Harry acting like an idiot, do you?"

"Don't rub it in," Harry said, scowling.

Hermione sighed in frustration.

"Harry, Ron, we have to stay on his good side if we are going to get any information about that necklace!"

"Well, _you_ can stay on his good side then," said Ron bitterly, "He seems to be civil to you, at least."

Hermione choose it would be more productive to ignore him.

"Look, someone is going to hear us – here, let me cast the muffliato charm, so we can at least talk privately."

She took out her wand and discreetly cast the charm, then checked to see that no one was standing close to them for good measure.

"Right – so what do you two think?"

"He's a git," Ron repeated immediately.

"Not about that! About the whole situation. The Chamber being open – more importantly, the first attack happening on our first night here."

Harry and Ron looked surprised.

"You think there's a connection?" Harry asked.

Hermione bit her lip, "I don't know. But it's very strange that less than a day after we arrive, the Chamber is opened. And – and – _oh!_ I just remembered!" she said, sitting up straighter.

"What?" asked Harry eagerly, "What is it?"

"Today, earlier, when I went to the library to find books about Occlumency – I ran into Riddle. Obviously, I didn't know it was him then, but I knew it was the person wearing the necklace. Anyway, I saw him running out of the library and he looked – how would I explain it? Excited? Very excited, and happy. He was practically running out of the library before he bumped into me. And – oh if only I realised earlier! He walked down the corridor that lead away from the main stair case! There are only a few rooms and the stair case that leads to the third and second floors that way!"

"What are you saying?" asked Ron, frowning, "That he was going to Myrtle's bathroom?"

"Exactly, Ron," Hermione breathed, "What if – what if he had only discovered the entrance today?"

"But that makes it sound like a book in the library told him where the entrance was," Harry replied, "And that doesn't make sense at all."

Hermione frowned in thought, "You're right – it wouldn't make sense, but it fits. Did you hear that they said Peter hadn't been seen in classes since morning break? That's just after the time I saw Riddle leave the library."

"Well, regardless, the question now is what are we going to do about it?" asked Harry, "I mean – we know where the Chamber is, we know who opened it, and we know what's in it! We could tell someone – we could tell Dumbledore."

"Harry, no!" Hermione said empathically, "We can't. You can't just accuse Riddle – we have no proof!"

"We don't need proof," Ron said, "Dumbledore already suspects Riddle; I bet he'd believe us."

"Us? A bunch of kids he's only known for a day? Why should be believe us? Besides, you know what he said; even though he suspected Riddle he could never do anything about it because he couldn't prove it and because everyone else loved him, what with his _innocent-little-orphan-boy_ facade."

"That's true," said Harry bitterly, kicking a nearby coffee table, "But we can still tell Dumbledore about the Chamber – where it's found, what's inside it."

Hermione looked at him with an expression close to pity.

"Harry, why would he believe us? And even if he did, you'd have to tell him you're a parcelmouth in order to take him into the Chamber. That, plus the fact that we are in Slytherin and we know where the Chamber is and what's inside it – he'd think _you _are the Heir of Slytherin, like everyone else did in second year. Plus there's the fact that the attacks started the day we arrived! How are you going to explain how we know all this, Harry? Let's face it, it's all against us."

A grim silence followed these words. Hermione hoped they would see reason.

"Well," said Ron, after a moment, "Well, I guess we could, you know, go in there ourselves. Kill the basilisk. We'd be saving Myrtle and stopping the attacks from happening in out own time and – and blimey, Hagrid! We'd be saving Hagrid! He won't be falsely accused anymore!"

Hermione's jaw dropped, "I'd forgotten about Hagrid!" she moaned, while Harry's expression clearly told her that he had not forgotten at all.

"So it's a plan? We kill the basilisk?"

"Well, there's just one little problem with that plan though," Hermione said, sighing.

"What?" exclaimed Ron, exasperated, "What now?"

"Assuming we can even get to the basilisk without getting ourselves caught by Riddle, petrified or killed – how do you intend to actually call the basilisk? Harry, you might be able to speak parceltongue, but we all know it only answers to the Heir. You said so yourself. We couldn't get to it even if we wanted to. Besides, let's not forget the reason we are here is to figure out how to go back to our own time, not to change history."

Ron looked put out. But Harry did not.

"Wait a minute Hermione," he said, sitting forward, looking at her intently and frowning in thought, "You're contradicting yourself."

Hermione felt shocked. Harry had never questioned her like that before.

"How?" she asked defensively.

"Didn't you say, when you agreed to enrol at Hogwarts, that after the whole Buckbeak experience you leaned towards the theory that you can't actually change the future? That everything we do now, the effects of it were already felt by us when we were in our time, before we came here?"

"Well, yes, I suppose –" Hermione stuttered.

"And doesn't that mean that even if we tried to save Myrtle, we wouldn't succeed? Because we know for a fact that she was killed, so we can't save her. But maybe – maybe our interference was the reason no one else was killed! We can try to slow Riddle down as much as we can, and it won't be interfering with history at all that way!"

Hermione bit her lip. She knew he had a valid argument. In fact, it was an extremely good argument, one that she leaned to strongly herself. But she was not entirely convinced.

"But what if we end up doing more harm than good? What if we end up being the _reason_ Myrtle was killed?"

Harry considered the point grimly, "No matter what the Sorting hat might say, we're Gryffindors, through and through. You can't expect us to act any differently. It's a risk we will have to take. We have the ability to thwart him, and to over look that just goes against everything we've ever fought for."

There was a moment's silence in which Hermione thought hard.

"I agree with Harry," said Ron quietly.

Hermione sighed.

"_Fine_. I'll agree with this – to an extent. It could work – _if_ we are careful and subtle enough. Extremely careful. I'm sure there are lots of small things we can do that won't be too dangerous, but you have to promise me not to do anything to rash, especially not without consulting me. Please?"

"It's a deal," Harry said, looking relieved, though determined.

"Excellent," said Ron, a large grin on his face as he rubbed his hands together, "This is going to be good. Riddle will have no idea what hit him."

Hermione's eyes flickered to where Riddle was enjoying his dinner. The heavy feeling she had felt in her stomach had not yet lifted, and as a new found nervousness tingled though her limbs, she could not help but feel that things were only going to get much, _much_ worse before they started to get better.

* * *

**A/N - Thanks for reading! As usual, I REALLY appreaciate feedback, even if its just a few words! And I've love to know if you thought the scene where the petrified body was revealed was properly written, and what you think of my characterisation - especially in regards to Tom, and Harry. Tom is very hard to write! Also, I'd love some feedback on Jacqueline and Alphard - do you find they are Slytherin enough? Clearly they aren't your average Slytherin, but I would argue that not all Slytherins are bult along the lines of Draco Malfoy - think of the likes of Slughorn. A bit self-centred yes, but mugglehating and evil? Certainly not! Thanks again!**


	6. Rowena Ravenclaw

**Chapter 6**

"No."

"Please, Hermione? _Please?"_

"_No._"

"Oh, come on! Have a heart!"

"Ron, for the last time – no! I am not going to put protective charms on your bed, no matter how long and hard you keep asking for them," Hermione said in frustration.

She, Harry and Ron were having breakfast at the Slytherin table, well away from other sixth years.

Ron glared at her as he barely managed to swallow a particularly large mouthful of cereal.

"You don't even care! Harry and I could be blasted dead in our sleep by that psycho, and you won't even help to prevent it."

"I don't see Harry complaining. No one is going to hurt you in your sleep. Besides, even if I did put up charms, you'd better believe that Riddle can be able to take them all down faster than I can put them up. You heard what Dumbledore told Harry; Riddle was controlling his magic without a wand, even before he knew he was a wizard!"

"So? Harry blew up his aunt without a wand that one time. Remember that, Harry? And once, when I was a kid, I made Fred's pants fall down in the middle of Diagon Alley – I must have been, what? Seven?"

"Ron," Hermione said, exasperated, "you didn't do that on purpose. Riddle could actually use his magic to do things, like scare the other kids. Now _that's_ advanced. Now come on! We're going to be late for Transfiguration."

Hermione stood up and waited for Harry and Ron to follow.

"Now, remember," Hermione said as they made their way to the Transfiguration classroom, "I know that we pretty much know all this stuff, but I can't stress enough how important it is that you two act like you _don't_ already know everything. No trying to act smarter than we really are. That goes for all of us. Okay?"

"We got it the first time, Hermione. Stop nagging," Ron said bitterly, still sour that Hermione refused to put defensive charms on his bed.

Harry gave her a meaningful look and added, "And don't forget what we told you, Hermione. Don't get carried away by this challenge. Do _not_ give Riddle any reason to take any special interest in you."

Hermione frowned nervously and said, "I wish we had thought of making my OWL's look a little more average earlier. We should have realised it would attract too much attention. Anyway, I've been thinking about it overnight and I've got a plan."

"And what's that?"

"I'm going to play dumb," Hermione said, smiling mischievously.

"Come again?" said Ron, looking disbelieving.

"You heard me. I'm going to pretend to not know anything and pretend that it takes me at least as long as the more average students to master a spell. I'll still make sure my test results and homework are somewhere between an EE and an O, of course. That should make him lose interest pretty quickly, don't you think?"

Ron shrugged.

"Don't ask me unravel the mysteries of that psychos mind. I, for one, don't understand why he would even care in the first place."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

_Of course you wouldn't understand__, Ron, but I do._

And she did. The prospect of working alongside someone as intelligent as Riddle would have excited her, were it not for the fact that he was the young Dark Lord, Heir of Slytherin – in short, evil incarnate. She had always been the top of everything (_well, until Harry started to show his aptitude for DADA, anyway_) and simply took it for granted. In this era, had the circumstances been different, it would have been something she would have to work very hard for, which made attaining it all the more gratifying. Although she completely acknowledged that accepting the challenge wholeheartedly would be most unwise, it was disappointing that she had to miss such an opportunity.

_I suppose I'll just have to be content with__ being second best. _

They arrived at the Transfiguration classroom to see that most of their fellow Slytherins, and a large number of Gryffindor students, were already seated. Hermione exchanged a puzzled look with Harry and Ron, who mouthed, "Since when was transfiguration taken with other Houses?"

Hermione quickly looked around the classroom and saw that Riddle was seated at the far end away from the door, and fortunately for them, the only table with three seats available was at the very back of the classroom, a good distance away from Riddle. The table was occupied by three Gryffindor girls who were clearly friends with one another. One, in particular, looked pleasant though astute. Her long black hair was tied back in a tight bun and she had a prefect's badge pinned to her robes.

"Hi," Hermione said to the girl with black hair, "You don't mind if we sit here, do you? All the other seats are already taken."

"Oh," said the girl, looking at them in surprise and noting their distinct Slytherin colours with a subtle discomfort, "That's fine, I guess."

"Thanks," Hermione said, smiling politely as they sat down next to her.

From the corner of her eye Hermione noticed one of the other girls giving the black-haired girl an incredulous look, clearly annoyed by the seating arrangements. The prefect only shrugged in reply. Hermione wondered vaguely if they were surprised that Slytherins would want to sit next to them.

Hermione looked around the classroom, and noticed that, just like at breakfast, students were talking excitedly amongst themselves. From the small pieces of conversation she overheard, she could tell that most of them were talking about the Chamber of Secrets. It did not escape her attention that a number of the Gryffindor's were glancing nervously or suspiciously at their Slytherin classmates. She could have sworn she heard a boy say, "Well, they don't call him the Heir of _Slytherin_ for nothing!"

She, Harry and Ron also seemed to be attracting some curious glances from the Gryffindors, though Hermione noted, or perhaps hoped, that this was because they were new students.

A few moments later, Professor Dumbledore entered the classroom. The students immediately fell silent and turned towards the front of the classroom. Clearly, he had no trouble controlling his class. Hermione noticed that he looked rather grim and the customary twinkle in his eyes seemed to have been extinguished. Most of the students were looking at him expectantly – Hermione recognised the expressions as being akin to those worn by students when the Chamber was opened during her second year at Hogwarts. Not all students were looking at him expectantly, however. Riddle was sitting back in his seat, not even bothering to disguise the indifferent, almost bored, expression on his face.

"Good morning class," Professor Dumbledore said, before looking around at the expectant faces before him and smiling weakly. "I see. Well, I don't imagine we will get too far today unless I answer some of the questions I'm sure you are all burning to ask. I think five minutes of our time is fair. Who'd like to go first? Ah, yes, Aidan?" he addressed a burly Gryffindor boy whose hand had immediately shot up into the air.

"Professor, what happened yesterday? I mean – this Chamber of Secrets, what is it? Is it real? Is it true that Slytherin hid a monster in the school in order to get rid of all Muggleborns?"

Some of the students tensed as Aidan asked the question, and most sat up straighter. Even Riddle was considering Dumbledore curiously.

Dumbledore contemplated the question carefully before answering, "You see, the problem with the legend of the Chamber of Secrets is that it is, well, a legend. According to this legend, Slytherin built a secret Chamber in this school, and placed therein a monster which he intended to use to rid the school of all Muggleborn students. A foolish idea, incredibly foolish. Over the centuries, many attempts have been made to locate the Chamber, but none have succeeded. Is the Chamber indeed opened? Was poor Peter really the victim of some legendary monster? Is –" he hesitated, before continuing, " – is the Heir of Slytherin truly amongst us? Alas, we do not know, and for the time being, have no way of knowing."

"Professor," said Jacqueline, "do you have any idea what kind of monster might be contained in this Chamber, _if_ it does really exist?"

"Many, Jacqueline. I have many guesses, but I'm afraid, that is all they are – guesses. Anyone's guess is as good as mine."

The students continued to ask questions, and Professor Dumbledore, rather accommodatingly, answered every one to the best of his ability. During this time, Hermione exchanged a number of glances with Harry and Ron. Most of them were ones of warning, since she could see it in Harry's eyes that he was desperate to shout out the truth in front of everyone. He remained ruefully silent however, choosing to glare at Riddle instead.

"Look at him, the git," Ron whispered angrily, while glaring at Riddle, "Look at him sitting there, listening as though he doesn't know exactly what's going on."

"Is there a problem, Mr Wesley?" Professor Dumbledore asked, looking at Ron expectantly.

Hermione cringed. It was clear that while Dumbledore had not heard what Ron was saying, he had seen him glaring at Riddle. She kicked his foot underneath the table.

"Er, no, professor," Ron mumbled, blushing.

"Good. Well, I suppose now would be as good a time as any to welcome the three of you to our classroom. I must warn you that NEWT's transfiguration is a highly trying course, though with a little hard work, I'm sure you all have the potential to do well. Now, on with the day's lesson."

As it turned out, the day's lesson was centred on non-verbally Transfiguring higher order vertebrates into other higher order animals. Hermione was delighted by Professor Dumbledore's teaching methods. He was humorous and engaged with the students. All the while, he made sure that no one ever felt bad for not knowing the answer to a question or being unable to master a technique. She regretted not being able to answer any of the questions, even though she knew all the answers. However, after she noticed Riddle looking at her expectantly a number of times, it was much easier to resist the urge to answer. The girl sitting next to her, however, had no such reservations and answered a good one-third of the questions herself. Riddle did not answer anything, though Hermione knew this was because of his bad relationship with Dumbledore, as Harry had explained earlier.

The task was, of course, extremely easy for Hermione. She mastered it in the fourth week of her sixth year, but as planned, she observed the students around her and set herself to work at the same pace. She even made sure to hold her wand incorrectly, so that her hen would remain very much unchanged.

"Good attempt, Miss Jean, although you are handling your wand incorrectly," Professor Dumbledore informed her, once he had finished correcting Harry's wand work (who, in her opinion, had no reason to pretend that he did not know how to do the task – he and Ron had not mastered non-verbal incantations yet). He proceeded to demonstrate the proper technique.

Hermione was rather impressed by the girl seated besides her, who, along with Riddle, had managed to progress much further than any other student in the classroom. At least her hen, which they had been instructed to change into a snake, had most of its feathers replaced with slightly deformed scales. Hermione even thought its pupils had started to become more slit-like.

"Oh, an excellent start!" said Professor Dumbledore, beaming at the girl's progress, "Well done indeed! Take twenty points for Gryffindor, Minerva!"

Hermione started, but her surprise went completely unnoticed as the hen that Ron had been working on started to cause much commotion and squawk very loudly. He had somehow managed to set his table on fire, mere inches away from his chicken.

"_Aguamenti_!" said Professor Dumbledore. A jet of water flew over Hermione's head and put out the fire instantly. Another well placed charm helped calm the chicken.

"Never mind, Mr Wesley, never mind," said Professor Dumbledore, who had clearly mistaken Ron's astonished expression, "It was just an accident, I'm sure."

When Professor Dumbledore was out of earshot and the rest of the students had stopped laughing and looked away, Ron turned to Harry and Hermione and mouthed, "Minerva? Not McGonagall?"

Hermione cast a quick, subtle glance at the girl sitting next to her and there could be no mistaking the likeness. It was indeed a much younger Minerva McGonagall, confirmed by the name written on her textbook.

Harry and Ron exchanged grins when Hermione verified that it was indeed their former head of House, and even Hermione was having trouble fighting back a smile, as a feeling of nostalgia swept over her.

_I'll have to make sure __to be extra nice to her! _

By the time the class was over, Hermione allowed her chicken to lose a number of its feathers, and develop a few sporadic scales, while Riddle had, like Minerva, received twenty points for his effort.

Hermione took the chance to congratulate Minerva as they packed up.

"It's pretty impressive that you made it so far in only one class," Hermione said, "You must really like Transfiguration, don't you?"

"Oh, thanks," Minerva said, smiling unsurely, "Yes, it's my favourite subject, by far. I'm Minerva McGonagall, by the way, and you're Hermione Jean, I think?"

She extended her hand and Hermione shook it.

"Yep, that's right. It's a pleasure to meet you," Hermione replied.

"Likewise," said Minerva, "I guess I'll see you around then!"

With that, she hurried off after her two friends who were urging her to hurry up; one of them was regarding Hermione suspiciously.

Hermione pointed this out to Harry and Ron.

"Well, what do you expect, Hermione? You're a Slytherin and she's a Gryffindor. It's only natural," Harry said, shrugging as they made their way out of the classroom. "From what Jacqueline had said, the distrust between Houses doesn't seem so bad in these times. However, with the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, I expect tensions will only get worse. You'll always have Gryffindors who will hate Slytherins, no matter what. Like Ron, for instance."

"Hey!" Ron said defensively.

"Sorry Ron, but you know its true," Harry said, grinning.

The rest of the classes for that day and the following days were very much like the Transfiguration class in that they all covered material Hermione already knew. Unfortunately, Riddle also took the same classes, except for Muggle studies, so she had to be alert at all times. Although he had not spoken to her after their last encounter, he did appear to be watching her closely. Occasionally, he would raise an irksome eyebrow in her direction when she was having difficulty mastering a charm or perfecting her potion. For the most part, she was simply content to ignore him.

Adjusting to life in Slytherin House had not been as hard as she had expected. For the most part, she got along very well with Jacqueline, and the other girls in her dorm were more or less easy to handle. Lucretia Black, who proved to be the closest equivalent to Pansy Parkinson she had yet to come across in this age, had little to say to her once she found out that she was a half-blood, which suited Hermione just fine.

Harry and Ron had also found a good friend in Alphard Black, Lucretia's second cousin and Sirius' uncle. Although there were no questions about his cunning and ambition, Alphard lacked the inflated sense of self-importance and pureblood mania that characterized Slytherins in the trio's own time. He also had a very good sense of humour, which meant that he and Ron got along very well.

Unfortunately, though Riddle kept his distance, they had to deal with Abraxas Malfoy. Surprisingly and most frustratingly, he had taken an interest in Harry and Ron.

Saturday morning was welcomed graciously by Hermione. It provided her with a chance to focus more time on researching, rather than spending all day in class. Harry and Ron had been planning to join her, until a distraction in the form of Abraxas Malfoy arrived while they were having breakfast.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said, winking coyly at her as he grasped both Harry and Ron on the shoulder. "Harry, Ron," he looked from one to the other excitedly, "guess what? Quidditch tryouts are on in an hour! The Captain just called a surprise try-out!"

"Why would he make it a surprise?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows as he reached over for the jar of milk in an unsuccessful attempt to get Abraxas to release his grip.

"Because," Abraxas said, grinning, "he's sick of people trying to bribe their way into the team, or worse, threaten him. The threats don't usually start coming until the day before though. By calling a surprise tryout, he'll save himself, and probably the team, too. Anyway, you boys are going to tryout, aren't you? Alphard told me that you have some skills in seeking and goalkeeping. Both positions are open, my friends! I'll see you on the Pitch in a bit." He gave them another wink and strutted out of the hall.

"Slimy git," Ron muttered after Abraxas walked away. "Bet he was the first to bribe his way on to the team, just like Draco did back in second year. So, what do you reckon, Harry? Tryout?"

Hermione cut Harry off before he could answer.

"You can't join the team. You should be helping me research!" Hermione hissed.

"We are helping you research," Ron said defensively, "but we can't spend hours and hours doing that stuff! You know we're not like you! Besides, we hardly spend any time studying since we know half the stuff already. What's the harm in having a little break? So, Harry, you in?"

Harry looked at Hermione apologetically.

"Don't worry, Hermione. We won't use it as an excuse to bail out of researching. I promise! You know how we are. We need something to take our mind off of things, and without Quidditch, there isn't really much for us to do."

Hermione pursed her lips, but gave in, saying, "Okay, but you promised, remember? I'm going to need your help if we want to get out of here as soon as possible. Now, I'm off to the library to do some research."

"Wait, Hermione. Here, take the map with you to…you know…look out for You-Know-Who," Harry whispered while looking around subtly to make sure no one was listening.

Hermione took the map from him, slipped it into her pocket, and nodded to indicate that she understood. They had decided to keep a lookout on Riddle by using the map; they wanted to make sure he did not approach Myrtle's bathroom. So far, he seemed to be staying away from it, but with the approach of the weekend, there was every chance that he might have more time to enter the Chamber and plan a new attack.

"Give me the cloak, too," she said. She wanted to have it with her, just in case she needed it.

Harry had also developed the habit of having his Invisibility Cloak with him at all times, in case the opportunity to use it presented itself.

Hermione left the Great Hall alone, with the cloak and map safely hidden in her bag. In the Entrance Hall, she slipped into a silent, rarely used corridor and took out the map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she muttered, tapping the map with her wand.

The map of Hogwarts appeared on the formerly blank parchment, and Hermione immediately began searching for the dot labelled Tom Riddle. Fortunately, during the previous summer, Remus Lupin had taught her a handy trick that allowed her to change the colour of different dots. Riddle's was now bright red, so he was incredibly easy to find amongst the sea of black. To her relief, she found him in the library, and an exciting thought occurred to her.

_What if he's looking for books about the necklace?_

Hastily putting away the map and slipping on the invisibility cloak, Hermione hurried towards the library. Fortunately, the place was almost completely deserted except for a few fifth and seventh years eager for an early start on their studies. It only took Hermione a few moments to find Riddle. He was in the isolated far end of the library, in the Famous Magical Figures and their Legacies section. Excited that she had guessed correctly, she approached him carefully and looked at the cover of the book in his hands. It was a biography of Rowena Ravenclaw and he was skimming through the index. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly as he considered the book with complete concentration. After a few minutes, he slammed the book shut and set it back on the shelf, only to take down another Ravenclaw biography, and repeat the process.

Hermione watched him working over his shoulder for a while. After the seventh book he slammed shut, she started to think that perhaps they were both wasting their time. That was, until Riddle gave a start of delight while flicking through the pages of _The Illustrated Guide to Rowena Ravenclaw and her Remarkable Achievements_. Hermione, who had been glancing at the titles looking for something relevant to read later on, gave a silent start and quickly looked over his shoulder to see what he had found. She immediately understood what had excited him. A full page had been dedicated to an elaborate drawing of what could be the very same necklace each of them wore. Hermione could hardly contain her excitement and when Riddle started to walk away towards the secluded tables at the back of the library, she had much trouble preventing her footsteps from making too much noise.

He set the book down on the table and quickly slipped into a seat, taking a moment to examine the picture of the necklace. Hermione, who had resumed her place over his shoulder, thought that the image was amazingly lifelike, except for the multi-coloured glow that seemed to be emanating from the jewels in the picture. She wondered if it was an artistic license, since she had never seen the necklace do that before. Riddle slowly started to turn the page and her excitement mounted. There was bound to be information about the necklace on the next page and she silently urged Riddle to quicken his actions when –

"Tom!"

A girlish squeak made them both start. Riddle slammed the book shut before looking up to see Andrea slipping into the seat across from him. The faintest tensing of his arms and the hardened look in his eyes told Hermione that he found the interruption most unwelcomed.

"Hi Tom!" Andrea said enthusiastically while smiling flirtatiously. "I wasn't prepared to see you here! Are you studying? Because I came here to study, too. Hey, I know! Why don't we study together?"

"Actually, Andrea," Riddle replied quietly, looking apologetic, "I'm really busy at the moment and I need to study on my own. I'm sure you'll understand?"

"Oh, that's okay," said Andrea cheerfully, not missing a beat. "We can study in silence then. I need to work on my Transfiguration essay, anyway."

As she continued talking about the essay and how difficult she found the subject, Hermione's eyes travelled to Riddle's hand, which was now holding his wand. He carefully aimed it at Andrea underneath the table and cast a non-verbal spell. Andrea stopped talking immediately and stared confusedly at Riddle, blinking a few times.

"Oh, hello, Tom," she said unsurely. "Er, what – I mean, I can't really seem to remember…"

Hermione immediately recognised the effects of the Confundus Charm.

Riddle flashed her a charming smile and said, "Oh, you were just saying that you couldn't wait to watch the Quidditch tryouts and that you were on your way there now. You'd better hurry – they'll be starting any minute."

"Oh, was I?" she asked, her eyebrows linked in confusion. "I'd better get going then. Thanks for letting me know, Tom. You're such a dear! I'll see you later!"

With that, she stood up and made her way out of the library.

As soon as she was out of sight, Riddle shook his head, let out a sigh of annoyance, and impatiently opened the book again. He soon came to the picture of the necklace and turned to the next page. At first glance, Hermione saw that there was only one page dedicated to the necklace, and immediately began to read.

_The Founders' Necklace, as it has come to be known over the years, is perhaps one of the most elusive and mysterious of the objects attributed to the founders. In fact, its very existence is questionable, with traditional, mainstream scholars vehemently opposing the very existence of the necklace, leaving only those of more radical leanings to share the little information they have gathered on the matter. Purists argue that the evidence collected is mostly hearsay and therefore useless. Because of the controversy surrounding the necklace, it will only be touched on briefly._

_The Founders' Necklace is reportedly the most valued treasure of the four founders – the only uniting relic which contained the colours of all four Houses. As such, it is believed to have been charmed by each of the founders, making it perhaps one of the most powerful of the treasures they had left behind. One of the most striking features of the necklace is that it selects the wearer. While many have, reportedly, attempted to fasten the necklace around their necks, the clasp would simply fail to fasten. However, with a selected number of people, not only did the clasp fasten, but it vanished altogether, leaving behind a seamless chain which could not be removed by any known means, magical or otherwise. Interestingly, in almost all accounts of people successfully wearing the necklace, it was reported that the wearer had felt a kind of pull and an unregistered attraction to the necklace that gave them the urgency and desire to put it on immediately. This led many to the conclusion that, like with wands, it is the necklace that chooses the witch or wizard._

Hermione grasped the necklace she was wearing, startled.

_What can I possibly have in common with Riddle that would allow us both to wear the necklace?_

Shaking her head in confusion, she continued reading.

_Naturall__y, this led many to ask the question of what criteria the necklace used to decide who can wear it. Most reports exist which provide different answers, however the strongest reports suggest that the criteria used is that same as that –_

Slam.

Hermione stared, outraged, as Riddle slammed the book shut, looking triumphant as he did so. He leaned back into the chair and rested his arms on his head, looking into the distance in contemplation.

_He finished?! But __I still had half a page left! _

Hermione was furious with herself for not reading faster.

After casting a quick look around to make sure no one had intruded on him, Riddle took out the necklace and flipped it between his fingers, considering it proudly. No doubt, he must have read about the criteria the necklace used and its function for him to be looking at it so fondly. He raised the necklace to his lips and kissed it softly, his shapely lips stretching into a smirk before he let the necklace drop.

_Gross_, Hermione thought, as she helplessly watched him hide the necklace and make his way to the front of the library to checkout the book, _I'm wearing a necklace that had been kissed by the Dark Lord._

* * *

**A/N - perhaps not as exciting as the other chapters, but important nonetheless! Please don't forget to leave comment/review! And I'd like to give a big thanks to my betas Hajnalmadar and Serpent In Red.**


	7. The Map

**Chapter 7**

Needless to say, the fact that Tom Riddle knew something about the necklace that she did not irked Hermione to no end. It also worried her. There was no knowing what the necklace did, and the thought that he might try to actually use it to achieve some wicked end worried her. It was for that reason that she spent two solid hours in the library watching Riddle as he studied, in the hope that he might leave his desk – and subsequently his bag – long enough for her to quickly make a copy of the book. She had no such luck, of course. All she had really managed to do in that time was read over his shoulder as he worked on his Transfiguration essay, which, she had to admit to herself, was extremely well-written. He had the kind of depth and insight in his work that she had to struggle to achieve. It seemed to come to him naturally and she could not help but feel impressed. That, naturally, only served to irk her even more.

She felt an immense sense of relief when Riddle finally concluded his essay, packed up his possessions, and left the library. Hermione continued to follow him, with the hope that he would part with his schoolbag.

A few minutes later, they were standing outside the Slytherin common room. Riddle muttered the password and entered, closing the door firmly behind him and leaving Hermione outside. She quickly looked around the corridor to make sure she was alone before removing the cloak and hiding it in her bag. She then waited a few seconds before speaking the password and following Riddle into the common room. As she entered, she saw him entering the boys' dormitories. She debated with herself for a moment if she should follow him or not, but her thoughts were cut short when Riddle came striding purposefully out of the boys' dormitories and towards the exit – towards her. With a jolt of the heart, she noticed excitedly that he did not have his bag with him. An expression of surprise appeared on his face when he saw her.

"Ah, Hermione," he said courteously, as he stopped in front of her. "I didn't notice you when I came in. How are you?"

Hermione regarded him suspiciously before answering him. From what she had observed of his behaviour, there was no doubt that he was sly and cunning and certainly not the type to openly initiate conversation. She suspected that he had some kind of ulterior motive and as such kept her guard up.

"I've been well," she replied with equal courtesy. "Thank you for asking."

"You haven't been finding classes too… challenging, have you?" he asked, as he crossed his arms across his chest. There was only the faintest sign of a smirk on his face.

"No, they've been quite alright, thanks," she replied. This time, the civility was much more forced.

"Because you know, if you have, it isn't anything to be ashamed of," he continued as though she had not replied at all. "I'm sure your tutor would have been able to teach at a pace that suited you best. Such luxuries just don't exist in Hogwarts, which is, of course, rather unfortunate for those students of, er, _lesser_ abilities."

Hermione did not like the way he stressed the word "lesser". She did not like it one bit. It was simply dripping with arrogance. However, what she liked even less was the way he addressed her with a show of sincerity.

_Fake._

Hermione smiled. It was a forced, pained smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"Oh, I assure you, Riddle. Our tutor did not take it slow at all and I'd say his pacing was very similar to that at Hogwarts, actually. As I said, I'm having no trouble with the pacing, though I appreciate your concern."

She topped it off by smiling sweetly.

"That's – that's good," he said, in such a tone that told Hermione he was unconvinced, "but tell me, why don't you answer any questions in class?" He raised an eyebrow. "You claim to have had 12 OWL's, 11 of which are O's. Surely, someone of such high achievement would at least contribute more? Or at least master spells more quickly than you seem to do?"

Hermione forced herself to appear offended and upset by his comments.

"I – I – how could you?" she sputtered. "That's a terrible thing to say! Are you trying to insinuate that I don't deserve my marks?"

Riddle seemed to be genuinely surprised by her outburst and said quietly, "I didn't mean to offend you, nor was I trying to insinuate anything. It's just that most people who get O's in a subject tend to show great aptitude from the start. My sincere apologies if I've offended you." He ended his speech with a little bow.

_Oh, please. Spare me. I think I'm going to be sick. _

Hermione, very much doubting that the apology was sincere, wondered if it was his intention to upset her in the first place. It seemed like the kind of thing the Dark-Lord-to-be would enjoy doing to satisfy his overly inflated ego.

"Well, Riddle, I'm not that kind of person. I might not enter a class knowing everything – or indeed, anything – about a topic, and it might take me a while to learn a new charm or spell, but that certainly doesn't mean I don't study hard afterwards," she said, crossing her arms and staring at him defiantly. "I'm sorry, but it seems that I'm just not what you were expecting."

For a moment, he did not reply, but seemed to be scrutinizing her.

"No, it seems like you're right," he replied softly. "Well, I've got business to attend to. I'll see you around."

"Bye," was her only reply as she watched him walk out of the common room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Hermione dropped all pretence of anger and, after hurrying to her dormitory, took out the Marauders' Map. She watched Riddle enter the Entrance Hall and start to ascend the main staircase.

_Perfect. Time to find out about that necklace. _

An excited grin spread across her face as she threw on the Invisibility Cloak. She stealthily made her way through the Slytherin common room and into the corridor that lead to the boys' dormitories. On the sixth door, she found closed door with a plaque that read "Sixth-years". Hermione pressed her ear to the door and heard two voices speaking. She listened carefully for a moment and quickly realised that the voices belonged to Harry and Ron. Delighted, she threw opened the door, knowing that they must be alone by the colourful manner of Ron's speech.

Both Harry and Ron froze when they saw the door open on its own accord. Harry quickly pulled out his wand.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

Hermione quickly shut the door behind her before throwing off the cloak.

"Oh, it's you," Ron said, falling back on what Hermione assume was his bed, looking relieved.

"It's a pleasure to see you, too," Hermione said sarcastically. "What were you complaining about, anyway?"

"What else?" Ron said, grimacing. "Riddle! He's so full of himself! The nerve of him, strutting around the place as though he's some kind of king! The self-styled Heir of Slytherin! _Humph_!"

"What's he done this time?" she sighed.

"Ron's just annoyed because Riddle asked him to stop leaving his dirty socks all over the dorm," Harry said, grinning.

"They aren't all my socks!" Ron said indignantly. "At least a third of those are Septimus's and I'm sure some are Alphard's, too!"

"Which leaves about half of the socks yours," Harry said pointedly, before turning to Hermione. "Anyway, have you been keeping an eye on Riddle?"

"I have," Hermione said, grinning excitedly. "Literally."

She quickly explained about Riddle finding the book.

"So I snuck up here, hoping to find the book and make a copy of it," she finished. "You two must have seen where he put his bag, then?"

"Yes," said Harry, as he stood up and walked towards the bed next to Ron's. "It's in his wardrobe. That's where he always put it."

Hermione surveyed Riddle's corner. It was much neater than the rest of the room and his bedside table was the only one stacked with books. Hermione could see a sock sticking out from underneath the bed – no doubt one of Ron's.

Harry reached out his hand to open Riddle's wardrobe door, which was between his and Ron's bed.

"Wait!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What?" Harry replied, looking at her quizzically. "Don't you want to get the book?"

"Of course I do," she replied as she walked towards him, "but I don't think it will be that easy. Do you think he might have charmed the wardrobe so that no one can open it but him?"

"He can't have," said Ron. "I've seen house elves putting away his laundry in there."

"Good point," Hermione replied thoughtfully, "but that's one of his flaws, isn't it? He wouldn't have thought of house elves when he cast the spell. They are too _below_ him. It's just like the Founders forgetting about house elves in their anti-Apparition charms."

"What do we do then?" Harry replied, frowning. "We can't just pass up the chance to get the book."

"We might not have to," Hermione said, before casting a number of spells to see if she can determine what has been cast.

"Aha!" she said triumphantly after a while. "I've got it."

"Excellent! What it is?" Ron asked curiously.

"It's just an identification charm," she replied confidently. "The wardrobe is charmed so that if anyone touches it, Riddle will be able to find out who it was. Oh, and it's been locked with an exceedingly rare, though powerful, locking charm. A simple Alohomora won't work on it."

"So," Harry said slowly, "what you're saying is, we can't get it?"

"Of course not, Harry!" she reprimanded. "I can unlock it. It just needs a non-verbal Alohomora with a more forceful jab of the wand and a little more spin – ah, see? It's open!" she said, beaming, having perform the charm.

"And how are we going to get the book out?" Harry said excitedly.

With a wave of her wand, Hermione opened the wardrobe door. Its contents were arranged just as neatly as the rest of his possessions. Underneath a number of neatly hung robes and clothing items, Hermione saw the school bag. It was opened from the top and the book she wanted was clearly visible.

Hermione aimed her wand carefully at the book and said, "_Geminio!_"

A replica of the book appeared inside the bag, squeezed in with the rest of the contents.

"Okay Harry," she said. "I'll levitate it and you summon it, okay?"

"Ready," Harry replied, taking out his wand.

Carefully, and quietly, as though not to disturb the neatly ordered wardrobe contents, Hermione said, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

As the book rose out of the bag, Harry said, "_Accio book!_" and the book flew out of the wardrobe.

Hermione let out a cry of joy. She quickly closed the wardrobe with her wand and locked it. She turned towards Harry, who was holding the book and reading the cover while Ron looked over his shoulder.

"_The Illustrated Guide to Rowena Ravenclaw and her Remarkable Achievements_?" Harry said, looking at Hermione curiously. "That's an odd place to find a reference to the necklace. Did they say if it was created by Ravenclaw?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, it's believed to have belonged to all the Founders, and therefore contains all their magic. Anyway, let's go. We can't read that in here. Riddle could return any minute."

"You're right," Ron said, looking alarmed. "We haven't been watching the map. He could be right outside the door."

"I don't think so," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I saw him leave and watched him go up the stairs on the map."

"Do you have the map with you?" Ron asked. Hermione nodded. "Here, give it to me. Let's at least make sure snake-face isn't on his way back."

Hermione gave Ron the map and she watched him as his eyes scanned over it. After a moment, his eyes froze to a location and the colour drained from his face.

"What is it?" she asked, worried.

"Riddle," he croaked. "He just walked out of Myrtle's bathroom!"

"What?" exclaimed Harry. "Are you sure?"

He rushed towards Ron and snatched the map from his hands to confirm it for himself. Hermione looked over his shoulder and sure enough, Riddle was now walking away from Myrtle's bathroom.

Hermione felt the guilt forming in the pit of her stomach. She clasped her hands across her mouth and shook her head in denial.

"I can't believe it," she moaned, after lowering her hands. "I can't believe it. I've been watching him all day. The minute I forget about him and focus on the book, he sneaks into the Chamber!"

"It's not your fault, Hermione," Harry insisted. "You've been watching him since breakfast. We all forgot. It's okay. We knew we couldn't stop him every time. More than one person was petrified so we'll get him next time."

Hermione nodded dejectedly and slumped onto Ron's bed.

"What are we going to do now?" Ron asked as he scanned the map again. "Riddle looks like he's coming back to the common room. I don't know about you guys, but I don't feel much like staying here right now."

"Is it safe for us to go out, though?" Hermione asked. "I mean, there's a basilisk on the move out there. What if – hey!" she exclaimed, jumping up suddenly. "Ron, give me the map!"

"Why?" he asked as he handed her the map.

"Because," she said as her eyes vigorously roamed across the paper, "what if – what if we can see the basilisk on here?"

"_What_?" exclaimed Ron. "Are you serious?"

"Why not?" she replied. "If it can show humans, animals should be easy."

Harry shook his head and said, "But we've never seen animals on it before, Hermione. It never said 'spider' or 'cockroach'. Not even 'Crockshanks'."

Hermione put the map down on the bed and picked up her wand.

"You're right, but Lupin taught me how they made the map and explained the charm they used to track people on it. The charm itself is simple and can be used for anything. They simply chose to perform it on humans only."

"So you're saying that if the spell is cast on the map, it could find the basilisk?" Ron said eagerly. "Do you know how to cast it?"

Hermione nodded, "Lupin taught me. Now, give me a moment to concentrate. While I'm doing that, you two watch the map to see where Riddle is going and if anyone's coming up to this dorm."

They did as they were told and Hermione concentrated on the charm. Just as he explained to her, she pictured the image of the basilisk in her mind's eye. It was the image that had once haunted her dreams – the image of the basilisk that she had seen reflected in the mirror the second before she had been petrified. With that image in mind, she carefully cast the spell.

The dull reddish glow around the edges of the map told her the charm had worked and she picked it up excitedly.

"Did it work?" asked Harry as he looked over her shoulder. "Can you see it?"

"I'm searching, wait," she replied. "Oh, look! There's a grass snake in the Entrance Hall!"

"And look!" exclaimed Ron, pointing at a boys' dormitory in the Slytherin common room. "Blimey, they've got an Adder in there! I hope that's a pet and not a nasty surprise."

"Can you see the basilisk though?" Harry asked urgently. "Look around the bathrooms and the walls. I used to hear it in the walls."

They searched frantically and after about half a minute, Ron cried, "There!"

He pointed to a wall on the second floor. There, they could see, inside the wall itself, a dot clearly labeled "basilisk". It appeared to be still and unmoving. A few corridors down Hermione spotted the name "Tom Riddle". A dot labeled "Lauren Mackenzie" was moving towards Riddle, away from the basilisk.

Hermione pointed the dot out to Harry and Ron.

"That's Professor McGonagall's friend, the girl who was looking at me suspiciously!" she exclaimed.

They watched as the dot came to a stop in front of Riddle and then, abruptly, Lauren started to walk back down the corridor, towards the basilisk.

The three looked at each other.

"You don't think –" Ron started unsurely, his eyes wide.

"Look!" Harry cried.

Hermione's eyes darted back to the map. The basilisk was now moving – fast.

"It's going towards that bathroom. Look!" Harry cried. "It's going after her! It's going to kill her!"

"It's not going to kill her," Hermione replied calmly, though her heart was beating extremely fast. "Only Myrtle dies, remember? But it might petrify her."

"We have to help her! Come on!" Harry said, already halfway to the door.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione yelled. "We can't just go. We need a plan. We could be petrified, too!"

"There's no time to waste, Hermione! If you have a plan, say it now!" said Ron urgently.

"Okay, okay," she said, thinking quickly. "Okay, so Riddle would have told the snake who to kill. It seems to be Lauren, which means we have to get her away from the basilisk!"

"Yes, obviously! But how?" asked Harry.

"She won't come willingly. She doesn't trust us. I say we Stun her and hide her somewhere," Ron suggested hurriedly.

"But where can we hide her? Where won't the snake find her?" Hermione asked.

"The Room of Requirement!" Harry cried suddenly. "It's perfect! Okay, let's go!"

"Wait – we need glasses!" Hermione said frantically. "So it can't kill us."

She ran towards Ron's bedside table, grabbed a pen and comb, and quickly Transfigured them into sunglasses. She took one for herself and handed one to Ron.

"Harry, you don't need one. You already have glasses."

"_Fine_, are we ready now?" Harry said impatiently.

"Yes, let's go!"

Harry and Ron ran out of the dorm. Hermione hurriedly stuffed the book into her backpack and put on the Invisibility Cloak before running after them. Fortunately, most students were outdoors so she did not have to worry about bumping into anyone. Once outside the common room, she threw off the cloak and sprinted towards the second floor, right behind Harry and Ron. Luckily, they did not run into anyone on the way.

"Look!" Harry cried as they climbed the stairs. "The map! Riddle's on the third floor and the basilisk is in the bathroom! All the way on the other end of the second floor! It stopped; it must be waiting for her there! Come on! We have to catch up."

With a fresh burst of speed, Harry hurried up the last few steps and landed on the second floor. Ron was behind him and Hermione, breathing hard, was just behind Ron. They ran along the corridor and Hermione saw Harry turn right at the intersection ahead of her. She heard him cry out in surprise and cry, "_Stupefy_!"

Hermione's eyes opened wide, her imagination getting the better of her, and she half expected to see Riddle or even the basilisk as she turned the corner. But she saw neither, and there was only Lauren, lying flat on the floor directly in front of the bathroom door, Stupefied.

Not wanting to go near the basilisk, Hermione held up her wand and cried, "_Accio Lauren_!"

Lauren's limp figure came flying towards them. Harry and Ron caught her before she could slam into Hermione and laid her gently on the floor.

Hermione let out a breath of relief as she bent forward. She placed her hands on her knees, struggling to catch her breath. Her throat felt like sandpaper.

"Harry, map," she said coarsely.

"What?" he replied.

"Map. Check map."

Harry immediately held up the map and scanned over it.

"Look, the basilisk is retreating!" he exclaimed. "It's – it's –"

Hermione looked up at him to see why he was stuttering. She saw him staring wide-eyed at the wall.

"What is it?" Ron asked, looking uncomfortable.

"I can hear it! Shush!" Harry said urgently.

Hermione and Ron shared a wide-eyed stare, both understanding that Harry could hear the basilisk.

Suddenly, Harry started and turned towards them, looking extremely pale.

"It's calling him! It's calling Riddle! _Run!_"

* * *

**A/N - Hope you liked it! I've love to have some feedback on this, pretty please? Even if it's just two words, I'd love to know if you loved it/hated it or something in between! Oh, and do you all think there's enough Tom so far? Or maybe too much Tom, or too little? **


	8. The Criterion

**Chapter 8**

"_What_?" exclaimed Ron.

"Riddle's coming! The snake called him! It told him that the girl's gone!" Harry said frantically. "We have to go!"

"Okay, just calm down, Harry," Hermione said as calmly as she could, which was difficult since her heart was beating extremely fast and her hands were shaking. "Check the map and tell me which way he's coming from. If he's taking the main staircase, we can take the stairs at the end of this corridor to avoid him. Ron, help me with this."

Hermione cast a weightlessness spell on the stunned girl and, with Ron's help, she managed to quickly cover her with the Invisibility Cloak.

"He's taking the main stairs!" Harry said. "He's almost here! Hurry!"

"Okay, we're ready," Hermione replied. Then, she pointed her wand at where she imagined Lauren to be. "Locomotor Lauren!"

She reached out with her hand to make sure that Lauren was floating in front of her and then started to run towards the other staircase, with Harry and Ron by her side. As they ran past the bathroom, Hermione felt her heart beating frantically. She could almost imagine the basilisk slithering out from behind the door. Their feet were pounding so loudly on the stone floor that she felt certain that Riddle would hear them, even if he did not see them. Finally, they made it to the stairwell without a minute to spare; once they entered and closed the door, they heard loud footsteps behind them. They fell extremely silent and heard a strange hissing sound that sent chills down Hermione's spine.

"It's Riddle," Harry mouthed. "He's telling the basilisk to go back to the Chamber. Come on. Let's go!"

Hermione continued levitating Lauren when Ron went rushing up the stairs past her. He was only a metre away ahead of her when he bumped right into the invisible Lauren and stopped abruptly. Hermione, who was running up the stairs behind him, bumped right into him and fell backwards. She gave out a loud cry as she landed at the bottom of the staircase. Suddenly, she heard loud footsteps in the corridor – Riddle was coming.

"Hermione!" Ron said urgently, rushing back down the stairs, looking concerned, with Harry right behind him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" she replied, as she frantically tried to sit up. "Go, before Riddle gets here! You and Harry take Lauren and go!"

"But –" started Harry, looking concerned.

"Just go!" she whispered urgently. "I'll handle Riddle. He heard me and he'll follow us if I don't hold him back! Just go!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other uncertainly, but did as Hermione told them. They rushed back up the stairs, found Lauren, and hurried away as quickly and quietly as they could. A few moments later, the sound of pounding footsteps got louder and Hermione threw herself back on the floor just before the stairwell door flew open. Riddle barged inside with his wand raised, looking extremely alert. Hermione did the first thing that came to her mind. She screamed. Of course, the scream was purely an act, but it was very convincing.

"What happened?" Riddle asked, running towards her and looking extremely pale.

Once she realised that Riddle was not about to blast her with his wand, Hermione quickly regained her wit and the horror of the situation quickly disappeared.

"What happened? You happened!" she replied angrily as she struggled to sit up. "What on earth are you doing, barging in here with your wand raised like that? You scared me half to death!"

"Is that all?" he said, looking relieved.

"Yes, of course that was all. What did you expect?" she replied.

_Other than your stupid basilisk disobeying you and going after some free prey._

"I – I thought maybe – I mean, I heard a scream earlier. Was that you? What are you doing on the floor, anyway?"

"Yes, it was me. And what does it look like I'm doing? I just fell down the staircase."

A moment of silence followed this admission as Riddle considered her suspiciously.

"Why?" he asked eventually.

"What do you mean, why?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, why did you fall?" he asked impatiently. "Did someone knock you down?"

"No, I missed a step and tripped," she replied.

"Did you see anyone going up these stairs?" he asked, his eyes moving towards the staircase.

"No, I haven't," she replied as indifferently as she could. "And you can lower wand, you know."

"She must have taken the main staircase," he muttered to himself, while he lowered his wand. Hermione doubted that he lowered it because she asked him to. He seemed to think it was no longer needed.

"What was that?" she asked, pretending to have not heard.

"Nothing. You should go to the hospital wing, by the way. You've got a nasty bruise on your forehead," he said before turning away to go back out into the corridor.

"Wait!" Hermione said quickly, thinking fast.

_I can't let him go. He might run into Harry and Ron!_

"What?" Riddle replied, somewhat impatiently as he looked at her over his shoulder. He already had one hand on the doorhandle.

"I, er, I don't know where the hospital wing is. Can you take me there?" she asked sheepishly.

Riddle did not move for a moment as he appeared to weigh his opinions. Hermione tried to gauge what he might be thinking. On one hand, he must be desperate to find Lauren and discover what had happened to her. On the other, he had spent too much time and effort working on his reputation as one of Hogwarts most remarkable and reliable students. Refusing to help a new student in need certainly would not work well for his 'poor orphan boy' image.

After a quick moment of consideration, he moved towards her with his wand raised.

"Here, I'll heal it," he said as he knelt down besides her. "It'll only take a second."

Hermione leaned away from him.

"No," she said quickly. "I want to see the nurse. Besides, that isn't my _only_ bruise. My whole left side is aching."

"So? I'm sure I can heal those, too," Riddle replied with a small smirk.

Hermione glared at him.

"I don't think so," she said dryly. "Well, are you going to take me or not?"

Riddle sighed and stood.

"Very _well_. Get up, then. I don't have all day."

He held out a hand to help her up. Hermione stared at it for a moment, not really wanting to touch it. She hesitantly accepted his help, however, knowing that it would be too suspicious to decline. He took her hand in a firm grasp and pulled her to her feet. His hand felt surprisingly warm and his grasp was strong. Strangely enough, there was a sort of gentleness to it. It was a far cry from the cold and rough grasp her imagination had dictated for her. Hermione withdrew her hand as soon as she could without looking too suspicious and followed Riddle as he proceeded out into the corridor.

"Come, follow me. We can take the main staircase," he instructed authoritatively. "It's quicker."

_Or, you mean you're more likely to see Lauren that way._

Hermione was about to make a comment when she noticed something odd; there was something extremely hot pressed against her chest.

_It's the necklace._

Her eyes grew wide with surprise and it was fortunate that Riddle was slightly in front of her, so he did not notice. However, Hermione had a good view of his face and she saw clearly that his eyes grew wide, too, before his brow furrowed in confusion. He placed a hand on his chest before dropping it hastily and glancing at her. Hermione, who had managed to thoroughly compose herself, gave Riddle a questioning look.

"Is everything okay?" she asked innocently. "You aren't having chest pains are you? Perhaps you need to visit the hospital wing yourself."

"I'm fine," Riddle replied firmly.

Hermione shrugged.

"Suit yourself. Anyway, you never answered my question."

"Which question?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"You never explained why you felt the need to scare me by barging into the stairwell with your wand raised and looking as pale as death," she said smartly.

"I already told you," he replied, sounding exasperated. "I heard you scream."

"Ooooh," said Hermione, feigning a sense of great realisation. "I get it now! You – you thought I'd been attacked! Like that boy, Peter?"

"Something like that," he replied vaguely, looking straight ahead and avoiding her gaze.

"Well, lucky for me it was just a fall," Hermione said. "Still, it was very brave of you to have rushed to my rescue. Are you sure the Sorting Hat did not consider placing you in Gryffindor?"

Riddle scowled slightly.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said before quickening his pace, as though to avoid anymore conversation.

Hermione noticed that as he walked, he examined the surrounding areas, no doubt looking for some sign of Lauren. Hermione humoured him and remained silence for a while as she contemplated why her necklace might have burned so suddenly like that. By now, it had more or less cooled down. It did not escape her notice, however, that the necklace had started burning right after she and Riddle had touched.

_Could it be that the necklaces realised that there were two of the necklaces? One on each of the two people touching?_

Hermione hoped that the necklace would not burn if she touched Riddle again. Not that she had anymore plans of touching him, but it would certainly give Riddle a reason to be suspicious.

"We're here," Riddle said, knocking her out of her thoughts.

She then realized that they were standing right in front of the hospital wing.

"Thank you," she said, before walking towards the doors.

"It's the least I could do. I couldn't very well let you run around with that kind of bruise on your forehead," Riddle replied.

Hermione was just thinking that that was an oddly nice thing for Riddle to say when he continued.

"After all, Slytherins aren't exactly known for clumsiness. You'd have embarrassed the whole House."

He flashed her a wicked grin before quickly striding away, leaving her annoyed by his comment. She soothed her pride by reminding herself that she had only received the bruise because she had foiled his plan in the first place.

Once Riddle was out of sight, Hermione rushed towards the Room of Requirements, which was on the other side of the seventh floor. She had never intended to have the nurse heal her. She could deal with her own bruises.

A moment later, she arrived at the tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy.

_Let me in to where Harry and Ron are hiding_, she thought as she walked past the blank stretch of wall three times. A door appeared and Hermione rushed inside. The room had resumed the form it had taken on when they had first used it. She found Harry and Ron sitting on a sofa. Both of them jumped up when she came inside, looking relieved.

"Are you okay?" asked Ron as he ushered her to a seat. "If that scum laid one finger on you, I swear I'll –"

"Ron, Ron, it's okay!" Hermione replied as she collapsed into a sofa. Touched by his concern, she continued, "I'm fine. _Really_. He didn't do anything. He just took me to the hospital wing. Well, I kind of pressured him into it, so he couldn't catch up with you two."

Hermione contemplated for a moment and wondered whether she should tell them about the necklaces burning. She decided against it. It would only serve to make them too protective.

"You shouldn't have stayed back alone," Harry said grimly. "I only agreed this time because there was no time to argue. Don't do that again next time. Okay?"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione replied, exasperated, "it's not like I stayed behind with Voldemort on the battlefield. This is just Tom Riddle at Hogwarts. He's not going to do something as stupid as openly attack another student."

"No, of course not. He just wanted to give Lauren a health drink," replied Ron sarcastically.

"Where is Lauren?" Hermione said suddenly, instead of replying to Ron. She looked around the room and found the girl lying on a mattress she had overlooked earlier. Lauren was not moving.

"Is she still stunned?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, she is. What are we going to do with her?" Ron asked, looking at her with an expression of pity. "I mean, I don't exactly like her much, but I wouldn't wish this on her. There's always the risk that Riddle won't give up until he's killed or petrified her."

"Well, what we do with her depends on what Riddle's doing," Hermione replied. "Harry, can I see the map?"

Harry gave her the map and she scanned it until she found Riddle's dot on the sixth floor. The basilisk's dot was nowhere to be seen.

"Riddle's roaming the castle by the looks of it and the basilisk isn't on the map," Hermione announced, "so that must mean that it had gone back to the chamber like it was told."

"Riddle could be looking for her," Harry said. "It's not safe to let her out yet. Anyway, Hermione, did you bring the book with you?" he added eagerly.

"What book – Oh!" she cried, sitting up straight and grabbing her bag. "The book! Yes, I've got it."

She had completely forgotten about the book, given their little adventure, but now that she had been reminded, her excitement came rushing back to her. She pulled the book out of her bag and set it down on the coffee table in front of her. Ron jumped up from his armchair and sat besides her, and Harry scooted over closer to her.

Hermione flipped through the pages impatiently until she found the picture of the necklace. She hastily turned the page and started to read from where she had left off.

_Naturally, this led many to ask the question of what criteria the necklace used to decide who can wear it. Many conflicting reports exist. However, the strongest reports suggest that the criteria used is the same as that used by the Sorting Hat to place students in a particular House._

Hermione stared at the book. She then read the sentence again to make sure she had read it properly. Wondering why such strange criteria would be used, she continued reading.

_However, unlike the Sorting Hat, which places a student in the House which suits him or her the most, the necklace can be worn only by those who demonstrate the qualities of a particular House to the fullest extent. For example, to be a student from Ravenclaw is not enough to be chosen by the necklace; one must be a Ravenclaw who demonstrates great intelligence, creativity, wit, and wisdom. In a sense, the person would epitomize the Ravenclaw House. As such, it is theorized that only a person who fulfills the criteria of any of the four Houses to the fullest extent can successfully wear the necklace. _

_This brings us to the question, what happens to the person who wears the necklace? Most scholars are of the opinion that the necklace serves to enhance the House-specific qualities of the House of the wearer. So, in line with the previous example, the necklace would enhance the intelligence, creativity, wit, and wisdom of the Ravenclaw wearer. This is true for all Houses. For example, a Gryffindor wearer will find an enhancement in courage, daring, nerve, and chivalry. To date, there had allegedly been two Ravenclaws, three Hufflepuffs, one Gryffindor, and no Slytherins who had successfully managed to wear the necklace. _

Hermione stared at the page which she had finished reading, awed by what it had revealed. Did the necklace consider her to be a true Gryffindor? Had the necklace been giving her a newfound sense of courage, daring, nerve, and chivalry since she had started wearing it? And then a terrible thought hit her – was Riddle now more ambitious, cunning, and resourceful than ever?

A few moments later, Harry and Ron both finished reading the passage. Ron let out a long whistle.

"Wow," he said as he sat back in his seat. "Just wow."

"King of eloquence today, aren't you?" Hermione said, sighing loudly.

"What are you sighing about?" Ron said, grinning madly. "This is amazing! That necklace is going to make you totally brave! I wish it had chosen me."

"Have you felt it working yet, Hermione?" Harry asked curiously.

"I – I'm not sure," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I don't think I have. And we've just been running after a basilisk and foiling the young Dark Lord of all people. You'd think the necklace would have had the chance to kick in."

"Maybe it worked and you just didn't realise it," Harry suggested. "Maybe the necklace is the reason you stayed back alone with Riddle."

"What?" Hermione replied. "But that was nothing!"

"See? You thought it was nothing. I think it's something. Riddle might not have believed you. He might have thought that you had something to do with Lauren not entering the bathroom. It takes guts to face Riddle like that, but you weren't even scared, were you?"

"Well, no, I wasn't," Hermione admitted, "but it's just _Riddle_. He's just student. He's not the Dark Lord yet."

"I also think it was unlike you to have stayed back," Harry mused. "You wouldn't normally expose us like that, would you?"

"You're reading too much into things, Harry," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I _had _to stay back, anyway. Riddle heard me scream. If I left with you, he would have followed us. That was the only way to make sure he didn't find out we saved Lauren."

"I suppose," Harry said, clearly not convinced, but willing to let the topic drop. "We still have a problem here. There was nothing mentioned at all about time travel."

"Yeah, I noticed," Ron said, grimacing slightly. "Which kinda sucks, you know? I was really hoping we'd find the answer to how we got here and how to go back."

"I guess we'll just have to keep looking," Harry said. "Oh, and by the way Hermione, we made the Quidditch team."

"Oh, you did?" Hermione replied, the disappointment evident in her tone.

"No need to sound so down about it, Hermione! You could at least pretend to be happy for us," Ron said. "Besides, we told you we'd help you and we meant it. Didn't we, Harry?"

"Yes, we did," Harry said, nodding vigorously. "In fact, we're ready to start, just as soon as we decide what to do with Lauren."

"Good," Hermione said, cheering up slightly, and she picked up the map to search for Riddle.

He was still roaming the castle, presumably searching for Lauren. He finally settled in his dormitory an hour later. Reasoning that this was the best chance they would get, they covered Lauren with the Invisibility Cloak again and set her down in the corridor where they had first found her. Hermione, still feeling a little paranoid, triple-checked the map for the basilisk before she was willing to awaken her. Once she was certain Lauren was safe, she, Harry, and Ron covered themselves in the cloak and she muttered, "Enervate." When Lauren started to sit up with a look of shock on her face, Hermione cast the Confundus charm on her to ensure that Lauren would not remember ever being stunned.

True to their word, Harry and Ron had both joined her in the library that day, where they spent many hours searching through books. Hermione was fondly reminded of the time when the three of them had poured through books searching for support material for Buckbeak's trial, as well as the many hours spent searching for a way to help Harry breathe underwater for the Second Task. She was just grateful that this time, she did not have to do all the work alone and that Harry and Ron were there with her. Even after Quidditch practise had started, they still found time to help Hermione before and after training.

Unfortunately, for all their hard work, they had found nothing more than a passing mention of the necklace, which did not teach them anything new. Frustrated and increasingly impatient, they continued to search hard, though it was taking their toll on them. Hermione felt that the only reason Harry and Ron managed to survive their intensive research sessions was because they had their Quidditch training to look forward to. As for herself, the lack of studying meant that her overall workload was not more than what she was accustomed to. However, the lack of success was causing her much stress. It was not uncommon for her to cry herself to sleep at nights as she imagined her parents in her mind's eye and wondered whether she would ever see them again. She pictured Ginny, her strong spirit crushed by the disappearance of her brother, friend, and very recent boyfriend. She could almost see Molly Weasley, crying into her husband's shoulder when she learned of her son's disappearance. She tried hard to push the images out of her mind. Sometimes, she was too exhausted to try, and even when she succeeded, the images were sure to return to her in her dreams.

If there was anything to be grateful for, it was that weeks had passed and Riddle had not been anywhere near the Chamber of Secrets. They were confident of this as they had continued to watch the map more rigorously than ever after the incident with Lauren. Many of the students seemed to have noticed this, too. The lack of any attacks led many to conclude that Peter's attack was all a hoax and that there was no Chamber of Secrets. Hermione pitied those who dared to hope, knowing that they would be brought back to reality very harshly, if not by another petrification, then at least by the death of Myrtle.

One morning, late in the month of October, the trio received a clue that even the Headmaster had put the matter of the Chamber of Secrets behind him, or at the least, was able to dedicate more time to other matters. Arriving with the rest of the owls at breakfast was a barn owl that delivered a letter to Harry. They were all surprised to have received any mail and even more shocked to see that it was addressed to "Mr. Harry Potter".

"But no one knows your real name," Ron whispered darkly. "How is this possible? Do you think our covers blown? Wait a minute. Isn't that the Hogwarts seal?"

"_What_?" asked Hermione, and she looked closer. The envelope was, indeed, sealed with the Hogwarts seal. She breathed a sigh of relief, "Of course! This must be the letter from Dippet, you know, to our tutor. We told him his name was Harry Potter."

Both Harry and Ron looked relieved, and Harry opened the letter.

"You're right, Hermione," Harry said after quickly scanning the letter. "He's just asking for confirmation. It's nothing."

"That's good. We'll reply to it later. Anyway, have you guys been checking the map?" Hermione asked in a whisper.

"Yeah," Ron muttered quietly. "He's in the hospital wing. He wasn't feeling well when he woke up this morning."

Hermione frowned.

"We'll have to keep checking the map during classes, though. This gives him an easy opportunity to slip away into the Chamber when no one is watching."

They finished their breakfast and stood up to leave for their Potions class. Walking past the Gryffindor table had become their habit and when Hermione cast a sidelong glance at the table, her eyes landed on a certain Gryffindor third-year. Being considerably larger than any other student, he was hard to miss. Hermione smiled sadly as she watched the young Hagrid laughing merrily with his friends.

She thought back to when they had first noticed him when he walked past them in a corridor. They had stared, delighted, and he had looked at them like they were crazy before hurrying away with his friends. They did not even try to approach him. They very much doubted that a young Hagrid would take too kindly to Slytherins, especially older ones, who inexplicably wanted to be friends with him.

When they arrived at the Potions classroom, they found that Riddle was not there and a quick look at the map told them that he was still in the hospital wing.

"Good morning, class!" said Professor Slughorn genially as he entered the classroom. "Now, we have lots of work to get through today! We'll be studying antidotes. Now, who can tell me about Golpalott's Third Law?"

Slughorn looked around the classroom expectantly, but no one volunteered. Hermione was sure that if Riddle was here, his hand would have shot into the air as it always did.

"No one?" Slughorn implored.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

_Riddle isn't here. _

Her hand shot into the air.

"Ah, Miss Jean, I think it was? Yes, go ahead!"

"Golpalott's Third Law states that the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components," she recited.

Slughorn looked very impressed.

"Well done, Miss Jean! Very well done indeed, take ten points for Slytherin."

Hermione beamed. It was the first time she had allowed herself to answer a question voluntarily outside her Muggle Studies class.

"What was that?" Harry mouthed once Slughorn had continued talking. "What happened to the low profile?"

"Riddle isn't here," she mouthed back, unable to disguise her grin. "Couldn't help it."

Slughorn soon stopped to ask another question and Hermione raised her hand.

_Okay. Just this last one_, she thought to herself before answering. Slughorn did not ask anymore questions after that one, which was fortunate because Hermione did not think she could resist answering again. But since Riddle did not arrive by the time Slughorn had set their task to devise their own antidote, Hermione decided to direct her enthusiasm to potion-making instead.

"What if Riddle comes to class halfway through the lesson?" Harry asked.

"I'll just add a few of the wrong ingredients and ruin the potion. No harm done."

_Except for my sore ego._

As it turned out, Riddle did not appear. By the time Professor Slughorn asked them to stop working, her potion was not complete, but much better than anyone else's, from what she could see. In fact, no one seemed to have made it even half as far as herself. When they had been set this task in their own time, Hermione remembered that she had only made it two-thirds of the way through. She decided that it would be wise not to exceed that, lest she drew too much attention to herself. She would have very much liked to complete the whole potion. However, it had taken her many, many hours of practise to master this potion and she knew it would be an overkill to finish it all during what was meant to be her first time brewing it.

"Excellent, _excellent_ work, Miss Jean!" announced a delighted Professor Slughorn, after taking a look at her potion. "Now I see where that O came from! Very well done indeed! No one has ever made it so far with this particular potion in my class! Take twenty points for Slytherin!"

"Look at her, Harry," Ron said as Professor Slughorn dismissed the class. "Have you ever seen someone looking so happy? I don't know how she's been surviving, pretending to be one of us mediocre students."

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Hermione said happily as she packed her books.

On their way out of the classroom, Professor Slughorn stopped them.

"Miss Jean, I was wondering if I might be able to have a quick word?"

"Oh," said Hermione, feeling slightly taken-aback. "Of course, Professor."

She turned to Harry and Ron and told them she would catch up with them. They shrugged and left for their next class.

"How may I help you, Professor?" she asked anxiously, hoping he was not going to try to delve too deeply into the matter of why she had not displayed much talent earlier.

"I don't know if you've heard, my dear, but this Halloween Eve I'll be having a little get together in my office. A party of sorts. Nothing too spectacular, of course, although I do have a great line up of special guests. Celebrities, ministry workers, you know the sort. I'd be very much delighted if you'd attend!"

Hermione stared. It was all she could do to stop herself from moaning.

_One good potion and suddenly I'm part of the Slugclub?_

Perhaps the best advantage she had noted about pretending to be mediocre was the fact that she had evaded being invited to join the Slugclub. It seemed like all such hopes were now dashed.

"I, well, you see, Professor," she said, thinking fast, "um, I don't think I'd actually be able to find a date in time, you see, as the party is in two days' time and I don't really know anyone here well enough."

Slughorn was about to reply, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Yes, come in!" called Professor Slughorn.

The door opened, and Hermione almost gasped when she saw who had entered.

Riddle.

"Ah, Tom! Come in, come in, my boy!" Slughorn cried, rushing towards the door and whisking Riddle forward. "Just the person I was hoping to see!"

Riddle looked curiously at Hermione and Slughorn, but did not comment.

"I came to offer my apologies for missing your class, Professor," Riddle began. "You see, I was in the hospital wing and –"

"Not to worry, Tom. Malfoy told me what had happened already," said Professor Slughorn, waving his hand as though brush off the matter. "I trust you are feeling better?"

"Much better, Professor."

"Excellent! You see, Miss Jean here has just accepted my invitation to my Annual Halloween Eve Party –"

_What? I didn't accept anything! _

" – and seeing that the party is in two nights' time and Miss Jean is new here and without a date, I was hoping that you'd be able to escort her?"

Hermione's blood froze and her expression became suddenly fixed.

Riddle looked at Slughorn in surprise.

"That is, if you don't already have a date, my boy?" Slughorn asked.

"Oh, no, Professor," Riddle said reluctantly. "I was actually planning on going alone –"

Hermione breathed in relief.

" – but I'd more than happy to escort Hermione. It would be my pleasure."

* * *

**A/N - Sorry about the long wait! It spent some time with my awesome betas before I could post it! Thanks to everyone who reviewed! To those who are reviewing as anon - I don't mind, but it means I can't send a reply to your reviews, and I'd really love to, especially those long ones that a lot of effort has gone into. So if you could review through your accounts, it would be much appreciated!**


	9. The Party

**Chapter 9**

"Hermione! Fancy seeing you here!"

Hermione's head shot up from behind the book she was reading. She saw Alphard grinning at her knowingly and slipping into the seat opposite her.

"Alphard, this is a _library_," she said, sounding exasperated. "You can't yell like that in here."

He grinned back at her sheepishly.

"Sorry," he said, lowering his voice. "I don't come here that often."

"I can tell," Hermione said dryly. "What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be celebrating with everyone else back in the common room?"

Slytherin had just won their first Quidditch game of the season, defeating Hufflepuff at 230 to 10. Both Harry and Ron had played well, but Ron's performance was amazing. His many spectacular saves and the fact that he had only let the Quaffle through once meant that he was currently the hottest thing in the Slytherin common room. His performance was just as good as it had been in the last match he had played for Gryffindor back in their own time, when they had won the Cup. Ron was now basking in his glory. Funnily enough, he did not seem to mind the Slytherins so much when he was the centre of attention.

"I could ask you the same question," Alphard replied. "I thought you were good friends with Ron and Harry. Why aren't you celebrating with them?"

"Oh, I don't really like the noise and crowd," she said offhandedly. "Besides, I've got a lot of studying to do."

She indicated the book she was reading. It was actually a book about time travel, but she had charmed it to look like their Transfiguration textbook if anyone else looked at it.

"And you still haven't answered my question," she added. "Shouldn't you be celebrating?"

"Nah, I had a terrible headache. I went to get a potion for it and the nurse told me not to go back to the party; apparently, the noise will make it come back," he replied, grimacing. "Of course, I didn't listen to her and went back, but left once it started getting to me. I didn't tell her I'll be going Slughorn's Halloween Eve party tonight, either," he added with a grin. "I'm kind of hoping it'd get better by then."

Hermione felt a sinking feeling in her gut at the mention of the party.

"Oh, you're going too, then?" she asked, trying but failing to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Alphard raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I'm going. No need to be too bitter about it!" he said defensively. He grinned at her slyly before adding, "I mean, look, I had no idea you wanted to go with me, but –"

"Oh, shut up," she said. However, she could not help but laugh. "Sorry, I wasn't bitter that you're going. Never mind. Who are you taking?"

"Jacqueline," he said unabashedly.

Hermione stared back at him in surprise.

"Wait. Since when are you two an item?" she asked incredulously.

"Since tonight, I hope," Alphard replied.

When Hermione looked at him quizzically, he sighed.

"We've been going to Slughorn's parties together for a while now, but only as friends," he explained. "I've been trying to get her to go out with me as more than friends for ages, but she just won't agree for some reason."

He tried to shrug it off as if it did not bother him, but Hermione could see that it did.

"Well, maybe tonight will be your lucky night, huh?" she said kindly.

"Let's hope so. Anyway, what's going with you and Tom?" he asked, his knowing smile sweeping across his face again.

Hermione felt herself turning bright red.

"How did you find out?" she exclaimed. "I haven't told anyone other than Jacqueline yet. She didn't tell you, did she?" she added worriedly.

"No, no, no!" Alphard said quickly. "It wasn't her. I just found out from Tom. Andrea asked if he'd take her – I don't know why she still bothers, he always says no – and he said that he can't because he's going with you."

"And did anyone else hear?" she asked tentatively. _Specifically, Harry and Ron?_

"Oh, not too many people. Just me, Andrea, Abraxas, and Lucretia. I think that's it. Oh, and Harry and Ron, too. Boy, does Andrea know how to humiliate herself, and in front of so many people, too – er, are you okay?" he asked uncertainly, after seeing Hermione bite her lip in worry.

"Fine, I'm fine," she said quickly. "How did Harry and Ron react?"

"Er, well, Harry looked pretty shocked. Ron was really red in the face, though that could be because he choked on his butterbeer. He looked pretty angry to be honest," Alphard admitted. "He, er, doesn't fancy you, does he?"

Hermione moaned.

_Well, isn't that just the million dollar question!_

"That's not the issue," Hermione said, purposely avoiding the question. "I guess you could say they can be a bit… overprotective."

It was an understatement. There was no way they would take kindly to this news. Ron would probably want to hex Riddle for daring to come near her and probably had about a hundred different theories already about how Riddle was going to try to use and abuse her, while Harry was most likely worried sick, thinking that Riddle had threatened her into this date and wondering what his intentions were.

_Those two are way too overprotective for their own good._

Alphard chuckled.

"Well, good luck with that. You know, this is the first time Tom's taken a date to one of Slughorn's parties in years. Not that he doesn't get a lot of girls groveling at his feet. There's got to be at least one Andrea in every year level in every House in this damn school – and that's _including_ first years. Which is why I came here to begin with," he said, giving her a meaningful look. "Andrea didn't look too happy when she heard the news and Lucretia looked like she was ready to kill. So, uh, I'd have my wand ready at all times if I were you. And few protective charms around your bed wouldn't hurt."

Hermione's face fell.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"You better believe I am," he said seriously. "Why do you think Tom hasn't had a date in years? It isn't because he swings the other way, believe me. The first time he took out a girl was in fourth year. She spent the next two days in the Hospital Wing because of some jealous idiot who'd hexed her. Same thing happened the next time. He said that's why he did not bother with dates and stuff much anymore, but Abraxas reckons it's because most of the girls out there aren't his type anyway."

_Great. As if it wasn't bad enough that I had to worry about Riddle. Now I have to worry about a fifth of the school's female population! _

"I see," Hermione said wearily. She stood up and packed away her books. "Well, I assure you that the only reason we are even going out on this date is because Slughorn – yes, I know, _Slughorn_ – asked Riddle to take me because I wouldn't be able to find a date in time. Very romantic, I know. Anyway, thanks for the warning. I'll keep it in mind. See you at the party, I guess."

She hurried out of the library, knowing that Harry and Ron would be looking for her. She did not go far before she spotted them running through the corridors in search of her, the Marauders' Map in hand. Harry looked worried and Ron still had a Slytherin flag tied around his neck like a cape. His freckles stood out clearly on his now extremely white face.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, looking relieved to see her.

Hermione sighed.

"Look, I know what you're going to say," she said quickly, her eyes lingering in worry on Ron, "but this isn't the place. Let's find a quiet classroom – over there. Come inside, quick."

She ushered them into the unused classroom and locked the door behind them. She added a few extra charms for the sake of privacy.

Wasting no time, Ron turned to her.

"What's this we hear about you going with Riddle to Slughorn's party?" he demanded. "Did Riddle threaten you? Imperius? I'll kill him!"

"Ron, _calm down_," she said. "Just let me explain."

She quickly explained what had happened and by the time she was finished, Ron looked relieved, his anger now focused on Slughorn. Harry, on the other hand, looked more worried than ever.

"Merlin's Beard!" exclaimed Ron. "What was Slughorn _thinking_? He can't just go around setting up students!"

"I'm more worried about what Riddle was thinking," Harry said, casting a worried glance at Hermione. "From what Alphard's said, it isn't normal. He could have easily made some excuse, but he didn't. He accepted and there must be a reason for that. He seems to have taken an interest in you, Hermione. He's always looking at you from the corner of his eye when we have something practical to do in class, as though he's waiting for you to slip."

"I know," Hermione said, worriedly biting her lip and shaking her head. "I've noticed and I've always been careful. I should never have taken that chance in potions! Now he's curious about how I managed to get invited."

"Isn't there anyway to get out of this?" Ron asked hopefully.

"I tried, but Slughorn wouldn't let me get a word in," she said, frustrated at the memory. "And I don't want to say no to Riddle after it's been confirmed. I think it would anger him. It would be a like having a go at his pride, and that would be more dangerous than just accepting and going with him."

"You're just going to have to be careful," Harry said, sounding resigned. "Make sure you take your wand with you."

"Is that all you can say?" Ron asked in frustration. "There's got to be more we can do! We could knock him out or something. Then, they won't have to go. Or we can sneak into the party and keep an eye Riddle. We could wear the cloak!"

"No, you couldn't, Ron. There'll be too many people. You'll hit someone in the cloak," she reminded him.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Ron asked. "We could have thought of something if we had more time."

"Because I knew you wouldn't take it well," Hermione replied sharply. "Besides, you had your Quidditich game. I didn't want you to lose because you're overreacting, especially not if it meant you'd use it against me."

Instead of retorting angrily like Hermione espected, Ron's eyes widened in realisation and a large grin spread across his face. "I've got it!"

"Got what?" Harry asked quickly, looking hopeful.

"I've got an idea. No time to explain!" he said quickly as he turned towards the door. "You'll know soon enough, if it works."

For a moment, Hermione was too surprised to think and it soon struck her that Ron on the loose with an idea was not the best of situations.

She ran out into the hall to stop him but he was already gone.

Worriedly, she turned to Harry.

"Can you go after him, please?" she asked. "Stop him from doing anything stupid. I have to go ward my stuff… I have a feeling Alphard wasn't joking when he suggested that."

* * *

"Okay, you can open you're eyes now!" Jacqueline declared proudly.

Slowly, Hermione obeyed, dreading what she was about to see. Reflected in the mirror before her was her own face, looking stricken, though otherwise lovely. Jacqueline had taken upon herself to prepare Hermione for the party once she had learned that she, too, was attending, much to her own dismay. Though as she looked over her reflection, she saw that, unlike the tacky overzealous styles of Parvati and Lavender, Jacqueline had a more classic approach to makeup application, which, she reasoned, probably reflected the age she lived in. Though her lipstick was a bold cherry-red, her eyes showed only a touch of makeup, and her skin was powdered smooth. She had even tamed her hair and tied it into an elegant bun. She wore a flattering, full-length gown of light silver-blue silk that Jacqueline had lent her. It was sleeveless, but it had a high neck, which meant that Hermione's necklace was safely tucked away from prying eyes. Hermione had enchanted the dress to create a hidden pocket that allowed her to hide away her wand.

She had not wanted to dress up to that extent, of course. She did not want to give Riddle that satisfaction. But Jacqueline ruined that plan when she saw the plain dress she was planning on wearing. Hermione tried to resist, but it was a lost cause; Jacqueline would not hear a word of it.

She smiled at Jacqueline and thanked her warmly, if only to be polite.

"Are you ready to go down?" Jacqueline asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Hermione muttered nervously as she followed her friend to the common room.

Jacqueline, of course, looked stunning in a knee-length red silk dress with long white gloves. Her long black hair cascaded gently down her back, held back only by an elegant hair clip.

"Now, Hermione," Jacqueline said, turning to her just before they entered the common room. "Remember what I told you. Shoulders back and back straight. Head held high. No, a bit more – that's better."

Hermione straightened as she was instructed to and plastered a pleasant expression on her face before entering the common room. Riddle was nowhere to be seen, though as Hermione's eyes swept around the common room, it was a certain redhead that they sought. She did not see him anywhere and had not seen him since he had disappeared earlier that evening. She had not seen Harry either, which worried her. She found it somewhat disheartening. Even after the Lavender fiasco, a part of her – thought an admittedly smaller part than what it had been – would have liked to be attending the party with Ron.

She had no time to dwell on such regrets, however, for at that moment Riddle came striding swiftly out of the boys' dormitory and all thoughts of Ron were pushed out of her mind. In an instant, Hermione understood more than ever why there would be girls queuing to hex her. Riddle looked extremely impressive in a long, stylish black robe that was open at the front to reveal an elegant silver vest over black trousers. His hair was carefully brushed to one side and served only to highlight his handsome features.

He seemed utterly unaffected by Hermione's appearance, striding confidently towards her. His eyes were fixed on hers as he came to a stop before her. He held out a hand, in which she hesitantly placed her own. To her immense relief, the necklace did not burn as it had the last time they had touched.

Softly, he said, "You look beautiful tonight, Hermione," before bending forward and lightly brushed his lips against her hand in a most subtle kiss. An unexpected tingling sensation swept over her stomach and she fought back a blush, glad that no one was privy to the knowledge.

"Ah, thank you," she said, forcing herself to smile pleasantly while his eyes remained locked on hers.

Not wanting to hold his gaze, she let her own eye drop and his vest caught her attention. Up close, she saw that his vest was not silver, but was in fact the exact same silver-blue colour of her own dress. She looked at it inquisitively and Riddle must have noticed, because he soon said, "It's charmed to match the colour of your dress."

Hermione could not help but looked impressed.

"How clever," she replied.

_What. A. Charmer. It's a shame I didn't wear pink. _

Riddle smiled conceitedly.

"I know," he stated, before entwining his arm with hers and leading her towards the exit. She noticed Alphard and Jacqueline just ahead of them, arms also entwined.

"I heard he invited that vampire again this year," Alphard said excitedly once they caught up with them. "I didn't get to see him last year. That should be exciting – really fits the Halloween theme."

"I'm just glad he decided against having another costume party," Jacqueline added. "It's very tacky. Wouldn't you agree, Hermione?"

"A little tacky, I think, but it might have lightened the mood a little," she replied.

_After all, Riddle would have been so much less intimidating dressed as a zombie or a mummy. _

By the time they arrived at Slughorn's office, the party was in full swing. The lighting was dim, provided only by the many candle-bearing carved pumpkins that lined the walls or floated across the ceiling, under which many couples danced. Large sheets of orange and black draped the walls, along with tables weighed down with mounds of food had been set up.

Hermione allowed Riddle to guide her through the crowd. They had barely taken a few steps forward before they were accosted by Professor Slughorn, whose cheeks were tinged pink from what Hermione suspected to be overindulgence.

"Ah, Tom, m'boy! I was starting to think that you wouldn't come! And Miss Jean!" he said, doing a double take when he saw her. "What a delightful surprise! How pleasant it is to see you!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow incredulously. She had never seen Slughorn so drunk at a party before. Then again, the Slughorn she had known was over fifty years older.

"Thank you for inviting us, Professor," Riddle said politely, though Hermione could hear the amusement in his voice. She very much doubted that Slughorn would notice. "We'll just get ourselves some refreshments then, if you'll excuse us."

Riddle pulled Hermione away from Slughorn and the dance floor and towards an unoccupied table where they both sat down.

"You'll have to put up with Slughorn for the evening, I'm afraid," Riddle commented as he reached for an elaborate silver jug. "Butterbeer, Hermione?"

"Yes, please," she replied, while keeping a watchful eye on her cup to ensure that nothing was slipped into it while she was unaware.

"It isn't uncommon for him to overindulge when he hosts such a large party," Riddle continued, casting Slughorn a dismissive glance. "Though, if we're lucky, his special guests will keep him too busy to bother us."

"Which is a shame, considering how intent he was for us to come together," Hermione said as she glared at Slughorn's back. "Why, if I had known that he would not even remember the evening by tomorrow morning, I wouldn't have come at all."

"Oh?" Riddle said inquisitively, raising a dark eyebrow. "Is it the company that displeases you? Look now, I am not so uncouth. See? I know my duties. Here is your drink."

Riddle handed Hermione her cup of butterbeer and she accepted it pleasantly.

"No, Riddle, it is not the company that displeases me," she said smoothly. "Just all the hassles and formalities involved."

"Well, let us hope the formalities are over, shall we?" Riddle said after sipping his butterbeer. "Did you read the Daily Prophet this morning?"

Hermione shook her head.

"No, I don't receive it. Why?" she asked curiously.

"There was an interesting piece regarding the Hogwarts curriculum, actually," he continued with a thoughtful look, taking a sip from his glass of butterbeer. "The Board of Education is thinking of cutting out some topics they deem too challenging from the OWL's and adding them to NEWT's level."

Hermione received the information with genuine surprise, though not because of the proposed changes. She had read about them countless times in her copy of _Hogwarts: A_ _History_, butshe did not realise that it happened during Riddle's time.

"How strange. Which topics are they thinking of cutting out?"

"Well," Riddle said slowly as he leaned back in his seat, idly twirling his wand between his long fingers, "from what I remember, they mentioned the Patronus charm, the Protean charm, and Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration."

This time, Hermione was careful not to let her surprise show. _Hogwarts: A history_ had never mentioned which topics had been changed and she had never known that any of the topics Riddle mentioned were taught for the OWL's.

"Personally, I think it's ridiculous," Riddle continued haughtily. "I fail to see what was so difficult about those topics, especially Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. What do you think, Hermione?" he asked suddenly, looking towards her enquiringly, "You received a few O's. Surely you agree with me about Gamp's Law, at least? I mean, even _Septimus_ understood it, and he only received an A for Transfiguration."

Hermione chose her words carefully.

"I can see why some would find it challenging to understand. I suppose that is up to the governors to decide," she said.

"Do you really think so?" Riddle replied, putting down his wand and looking at her intently. "The paper explicitly mentions the exceptions to Gamp's Law. Again, that's ridiculous. I asked Septimus over breakfast if he remembered them all and he did. Do you remember? The first and last perhaps? Go on," he urged her quietly, the challenge clear in his eyes.

"Food and life," Hermione replied shortly, "if I remember correctly."

Riddle sat back in his chair again, looking pleased.

"You see? It's too easy. I wonder if I should send a letter of complaint to the Board of Education. By the way," he added idly, looking back at her lazily, "what's your patronus? Mine is a snake. Much more interesting than Septimus' lemur."

"An otter," Hermione replied, and for good measure added hastily, "but I've only been able to produce it a few times, hard as I try."

Hermione looked away from him and saw Minerva walking past their table, throwing Riddle a suspicious look. If the music had not been so loud in the background, Hermione might have heard Minerva tell her friend, "What's Tom playing at? There's no way _Septimus_ can produce a Patronus! We haven't even covered that yet!"

As she looked back at Riddle, she suddenly became uncomfortably aware of his smug expression.

"Say, why don't we dance?" she said, lest Riddle started asking if she could perform the Protean charm.

"As you wish," he said quietly before following her to the dance floor.

Hermione immediately regretted her decision when she saw that everyone was dancing rather formally with hands placed on hips and shoulders. There was none of the rowdy dancing styles of her own time. Resignedly, Hermione allowed Riddle to take her hand while his other hand rested on her waist and she placed a hand on his shoulder. She again found herself fighting back a blush at the intimacy of it all. Hermione was surprised to find that he was perfectly capable of leading her and danced much better than she had expected.

"You looked surprised," he commented.

"You dance well," she replied, looking away from his intense gaze and pretending to watch other couples as a blush spread across her cheeks. She hoped her makeup would mask it. "Where did you learn?"

"At the orphanage, where I live," he said.

Hermione looked back at him sharply. She had never heard him talk about the orphanage before.

"You live in an orphanage?" she asked curiously.

He nodded.

"A Muggle orphanage," he said quietly, his voice void of emotion. "I've lived there all my life, except when I come to Hogwarts, of course."

"Did you know that you were a wizard?" she asked. "Before you came to Hogwarts, I mean?"

"No. I knew nothing about it until Dumbledore brought me my letter. What about you? Did you know?"

The question came quickly and Hermione suspected he was trying to divert the discussion from himself.

"My father was a wizard," she lied, "so we assumed that I was magical as well. It was confirmed when I accidentally turned the cat green when I was seven."

"I'm curious," Riddle said. "Why were you homeschooled? Because your parents didn't want to be away from you?"

"My parents are dead," Hermione said bluntly. "They died when I was a child, along with Harry and Ron's parents. It was always their wish for us to attend Hogwarts after our OWL's and we honoured that."

"I see," Riddle said softly. "My apologies."

Hermione nodded, pretending that the topic upset her so that Riddle would not ask more questions. Hermione was about to change the subject when she saw something curious from the corner of her eye. She turned her head sharply, only to see Ron grinning at her from the other end of the dance floor. He winked at her as his partner winced – he had stepped on her foot. Hermione recognized her as a Ravenclaw girl from their year.

_So that was his idea! He found a date. No doubt his newfound Quidditch fame was of much help here. _

Hermione turned back to Riddle and saw him also looking at Ron with narrowed eyes.

"I didn't know Wesley was invited," he said shortly.

"He wasn't," Hermione said slowly, her brows drawing together in confusion at Riddle's behavior. "Not by Slughorn, at least. I'm guessing that he was invited by that girl. Either that or he asked her."

"Fascinating," Riddle drawled. "Speaking of invitations, what did you do to impress Slughorn in that last class? He seemed positively delighted with you." He smirked slightly. "Are we, perhaps, finally to see the true reason behind your astounding OWL's? I daresay it took long enough."

"If you're expecting something spectacular, then you can keep waiting, Riddle," she said smoothly. "The only reason I was noticed was because I actually bothered to read the chapter beforehand. He did warn us that it was going to be a difficult chapter, after all. And he wasn't lying either. So I managed to answer a few questions. By luck, it so happened that you were absent, otherwise I'm sure you would have answered the questions before I had the chance."

"I see," he said.

He smiled at her and Hermione suddenly felt very nervous. There was something about the smile that worried her. It was too… knowing. It was as though he knew something that he was not letting on or as though he was simply humouring her. Before she could give it more thought, however, she suddenly felt a great tugging force pull her leg upwards and screamed as she was flung upside down. Her hand was pulled free from Riddle's and she was soon hanging well above the heads of everyone else present. To her horror, her dress slipped down and collected around her waist, her modesty only just protected by the knee-length tights she was wearing.

All around her, she heard gasps of surprise and a cry of anger or two, though they were mostly drowned by the sounds of laughter that filled the room. Hermione felt her face burning as she struggled to cover herself and knew it had nothing to do with the blood that was presently rushing to her head. Nevertheless, the rush of blood soon overwhelmed her and she left her struggle, though she did not have to suffer long, for she soon found herself being turned upright and lowered to the ground. She landed clumsily on her feet and would have surely fallen if not for a pair of strong arms grasping her and keeping her steady. For a while, she remained frozen in her spot, her eyes screwed shut as she waited for the dizziness to pass, furiously aware of the loud laughter still ringing in her ears.

When she opened her eyes, she found, to her surprise and embarrassment, that she was leaning against Riddle as he supported her. She froze for a moment. Her eyes looked into his and she registered that he was looking at her uncertainly, as though he expected her to cry or run away. Although that sounded like a pretty good idea in her mind, she was determined not to show weakness in front of him and she swallowed her embarrassment.

"You stun them all. I'll Obliviate them," she whispered fierily.

Riddle stared at her in surprise for a moment. He then threw his head back and laughed.

"Oh, very feisty, Hermione," he said, a curious grin plastered on his face. "Very feisty, indeed, but there are better ways to save face and get revenge. Come."

He slipped a hand around her waist, which almost made her squirm, but she allowed him to lead her toward the door. Hermione was aware that all eyes were on them and she was sure to hold her head up high. When they were right next to the door, Tom turned her around to face him and he whispered, "Watch and learn."

And then suddenly, without warning, he leaned forward and she felt his full, warm lips pressed against her own as he kissed her chastely on her lips. He pulled away quickly; Hermione merely stood there, shocked, barely registering that the laughter around her had stopped and was replaced by gasps, wolf-whistles, and excited chatter. She even thought she heard an outraged cry.

Before she had time to react, Riddle swiftly opened the door and pulled her outside.

"W-what was that?" she stuttered, after he had closed the door.

"My revenge," he said, smirking at her contently.

"Your revenge?" she repeated, stunned. "How is this _your_ revenge? I was the one flung upside down! How does _kissing_ me constitute revenge?"

"You were attacked while I was escorting you," he said haughtily. "Any attack on you is thus an attack on me. Or, if you would like to be more specific, you were attacked _because_ I was escorting you."

_Ah. Typical. It's all about him._

Hermione gave him a withering look.

He merely shrugged.

"Of course, I could think of certain things that might have annoyed her even more, though they tend to be a tad more intimate than that innocent kiss," he said insolently. "And besides, it was an added bonus for you. I don't see why you're complaining. Are you telling me you didn't like that?"

_Why you arrogant little toerag_, she screamed in her mind, while another part of her mind seemed to agree with him. _It wasn't all that bad_, it seemed to tell her. Needless to say, Hermione suppressed that little corner of her mind rather quickly.

She crossed her hands across her chest, held her head up high, and said with as much haughtiness as she could muster, "I've had better."

"Is that a challenge?" Riddle asked, his eyes narrowed at her in a way that clearly indicated that he accepted.

He then stepped closer to her, as though he intended to kiss her again in order to make a point, but he stopped suddenly. He was staring at the hem of her dress, his eyes wide in shock and face suddenly pale. Bewildered, Hermione followed his gaze, and what she saw made her insides freeze.

Her necklace had came out from behind her dress.

* * *

**A/N** - First off, a huge thanks to my two awesome betas, Hajnalmadar and Serpent In Red - this chapter would have been much duller without their awesome help. Secondly - I'm very sorry about the delay, but unfortunately it's possible that the next chapter might be delayed as well (but I'll try my best to have in up in at least a week and if that isn't possible, definitely less than two weeks!) Feedback welcome! This is the first time we had such an extended scene with Tom, so feedback on who I've written him is most welcome!


	10. The Monument

**Chapter 10**

Hermione lifted up her eyes from the necklace to look at Riddle and found that, impressively, his expression was once again one of unreadable impassiveness. His eyes were still locked on the locket and Hermione suspected he was doing some serious thinking. She used the time wisely and quickly formulated a plan in her mind. Fortunately for her, she had already come up with an excuse in case a situation such as this arose.

"Your necklace," he said slowly, his eyes suddenly jolting up to lock on hers, regarding her suspiciously. "Where did you get your necklace from?"

"Stop trying to change the topic!" she snapped. "Now, I don't know what kind of liberties girls have given you in the past, but I just won't stand –"

"Hermione," he said sharply, cutting her off. "Tell me where you got the necklace from."

It was then that Hermione noticed that Riddle was holding his wand. It lay casually at his side, but she could see that his grip was firm.

"Why do you care? It's just a necklace," she asked, her confidence dwindling as she realised that her wand was in her pocket.

He raised an eyebrow at her and rather than replying, held a hand up to his collar and tugged his necklace out. Hermione stared at it, dumbstruck by the utterly unexpected movement.

"You've seen it before," he said, his eyes still narrowed suspiciously at her. "I recall it clearly."

Hermione allowed her eyes to widen in realisation.

"You're right! I did see it. It was my first day back. I'd completely forgotten!" she said, looking up from the necklace and at his face. "Well, that's an interesting coincidence! Where did you get yours from?" she asked eagerly.

Riddle scowled impatiently.

"I believe I asked that question first," he said coolly.

"Well, if you must know," she said slowly, "I inherited it from my mother. It was a present from my father. It's probably not really made out of gold and it isn't original. The man dad bought it from had a whole box full of them, but my mum didn't mind. She loved it. My mum would often take it off and let me wear it, because she knew I loved it, too."

Hermione gave Riddle a sad smile and noticed that though he was still regarding her suspiciously, his expression softened and he seemed calmer. It was with great relief that she realised he believed her.

"And do you wear it all the time?" he asked curiously.

Hermione shook her head.

"Almost all the time. I take it off when I go swimming or when I think it might get dirty or ruined," she lied, knowing that Riddle only asked to be certain that the necklace was a fake.

Riddle had the decency to look solemn.

"My apologies," he said softly. "It must mean a lot to you."

"It does," she replied. Then, knowing she was pressing her luck, she asked, "So, where did you get your necklace from?"

"That's a long story," he said simply. "It's best saved for another time, though, listen, Hermione. Could you do me a favour and not mention that I have the necklace? It's not something I want others to know about. I mean, not many men were necklaces these days."

It was Hermione turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Of course," she replied, "but why do you wear it if you're ashamed of it?"

Riddle looked surprised.

"I'm not ashamed. It's just, well –" he said hesitantly, a slight blush on his cheeks, and Hermione was struck by his excellent acting skills. He sighed, "Another time, okay?"

Before Hermione could reply, the door to Slughorn's office slammed open and Ron came running outside, looking dishevelled, pale, and worried.

In an instant, Riddle had the necklace tucked back under his shirt and was looking at Ron with a satisfied smirk on his face before turning to Hermione.

"I'll see you later then," he said, winking at her before swiftly walking away.

Ron rushed towards Hermione, who let out a long sigh of relief once Riddle was out of earshot.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked.

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head. "Just a bit shaken. That's all."

"Well, I don't blame you!" Ron said angrily. "Who does he think he is? The bloody prick, kissing you like that!"

"Er…" Hermione said dumbly.

She had actually been referring more to the fact that she had been thrown into the air, but she supposed that to Ron, the kiss was the more important detail. After all, it was after he found out that she had kissed Krum that he started fooling around with Lavender.

"He's haughty that way," Hermione said simply, rolling her eyes. After all, it was easier not to think about one of the most embarrassing events of her life. "But listen, Ron – Riddle saw the necklace."

"What?" he exclaimed, shocked, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "And you're still alive?"

"Yeah, thanks to my planning and some quick thinking," she said, as she pulled Ron away from her and explained what she had told Riddle.

"Smart," Ron said, looking relieved. "Do you think he believed it though?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"I think he did. I mean, I gave him enough information to think that my necklace doesn't act like the real one. And he knows his is real because he can't take it off. Plus, he's arrogant enough to think that I wouldn't know anything about the real necklace anyway, but I wouldn't put it past him to investigate a little more."

_Especially if he reconsiders the way the necklace's burned when we touched that first time._

"We'll just have to be careful," she said. "Come on. I think we should go find Harry and tell him what happened. He'd want to know."

Hermione started to walk away when she noticed Ron hadn't moved and was looking at her sheepishly.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"I, er, I have to go back. My date," he explained.

"Oh," Hermione said. She smirked and added, "That was your great idea, wasn't it? Getting a date? How'd you manage?"

Ron grinned, "I noticed she'd been looking at me in class and stuff, and I knew she was in the Slugclub so I asked her out. And it helps that I've got some newfound Quidditch fame to back me up now."

Hermione snorted, but to her relief found that she was not bothered by this at all. After Lavender, this was extremely tame. After all, he had only asked the Ravenclaw girl so he could keep an eye out on her… right?

"See you, then," Ron said before returning to the party.

Hermione made her way back to the common room, thinking nervously about how lucky she had just been and whether Riddle was planning anything for her. She was surprised he had not tried to do Legimency on her, but then she was not sure if he had even learned it by his sixth year. After all, it was notoriously more difficult to breach a person's mind than it was to block access to your own.

Her mind drifted back to the image of Ron dancing with his date. She frowned, remembering what he had said about the girl taking an interest in him. What if Ron liked her back? She was very pretty after all… and Ron could be shallow that way. She felt a slight pang of worry, but other than that, she felt nothing, which confused her; when he had started dating Lavender, she had certainly felt more than just a pang of worry.

_Maybe I don't like him as much as I used to_, she wondered. _But Lavender was different_, she reminded herself. _Lavender happened when he was going to take me to Slughorn's party_.

"Hermione!" a voice called out from behind her, startling her and almost causing her to fall down the staircase she was descending. She turned around and saw Harry running towards her.

"Godric, Harry! You scared the – what is it?" she asked when she saw his excited expression.

Harry shoved a book in her face. She had not even noticed him holding it, which was remarkable given the book's size. It was an old-looking book with a leather cover. The title _On Godric Gryffindor_ was stamped across the front.

"You've found something?" Hermione asked excitedly.

"Yes, come look at this," he said, sitting down on a step and flicking through the book until he landed on a page towards the end.

Hermione sat down next to him and looked at the picture that Harry was pointing at. It appeared to be a stream, but it was unlike any stream Hermione had ever seen before. Though the water looked to be at least a metre deep, it was extremely clear and the sunlight illuminated the stream bed such that every rock could be seen. There amongst the rocks was a structure that was clearly manmade. It was a very large slab of carved stone; its top surface was flat and smooth except for the intricate designs around its edges and centre.

Hermione looked at Harry, confused.

"Harry, how does this help us?"

He pointed to the small pictures underneath the main picture of the stream, pointing out one in particular. Hermione saw that it was a close up of one of the patterns on the rock. It was a rectangle which was dived into four, with intricate patterns around the sides. Patterns that looked suspiciously like those on –

"The necklace," said Harry. "I recognised it immediately. It's an inversed print, as though someone cast the necklace into the rock and made an impression with it. Like putting your hand in play doh."

Hermione stared at the image wide-eyed. Harry was right. She was certain that if she pressed the necklace against that pattern, it would fit perfectly.

"Harry – do you think, I mean, could it be –"

"Enchanted? A lock of some kind?" Harry finished for her. "It could be. Or it could be nothing."

"What is this structure, anyway?" she asked, her eyes wondering across the page. "Who made it?"

Harry pointed at the text next to the picture.

"It's a sort monument in honour for Godric Gryffindor. His name is written on the top here, see? I didn't notice it at first because it just looked like another pattern. He asked the other founders, if they outlived him, to built it for him in his will. He had the plans written out for them and everything. It was a total secret, too. No one but Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were allowed to see them. They wouldn't say anything about the plans, which made a lot of people believe that there was more to it than what met the eye. That and the huge magical force around it, which is meant to be a sign that some powerful magic is acting there. But no one had ever been able to find out what the secret behind it is," Harry said excitedly. "That's got me thinking, what if the necklace is the key to whatever secret is hidden there?"

Harry's excitement was contagious and she soon found herself equally excited. However, she still had a nagging doubt at the back of her mind.

"It could be a coincidence though," she said, biting her lip in thought. "It seems too good to be true. I mean – this could be our key to getting back home, but it might also be nothing."

"Or it might not be. I don't think it is," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Where is this stream? Does it say?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, it's in a small forest on the outskirts of Godric's Hallow, Gryffindor's hometown."

They sat in silence for a moment, both of them staring at the picture. At length, Hermione spoke.

"I'm going there tomorrow," she said.

Harry beamed.

"I knew you'd see reason," he said excitedly. "Now, tomorrow's an authorised Hogsmeade trip so that makes everything much easier. Our best bet seems to be Apparating straight from Hogsmeade –"

"Harry," Hermione said, raising a hand to cut him off. "Harry, _we_ aren't going anywhere. Only I'm going. Alone."

Harry gaped at her.

"Are you crazy? You can't go alone! Something might happen to you!"

"I have to go alone. You and Ron need to stay here to watch the map," she explained pointedly.

Harry opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again, looking confused.

"Well," he said after a moment, "one of us can stay back and the other can go with you."

"Harry, that isn't going to work. You'll both be needed here more than with me," she said pointedly. "Besides, I can take care of myself. Even if something happens – which it might not – I don't think it will be something to worry about. I mean it's a memoir for Gryffindor, not Slytherin. How bad can it be?"

Later on the next day, Hermione would reflect sourly on how naïve she had been.

* * *

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Ron muttered angrily as the trio made their way to Hogsmeade.

"Ron, you didn't agree, remember?" Hermione said. "You're only being forced to accept because I pointed out you couldn't come even if you wanted. You still can't Apparate properly."

"That and because you've agreed to make an illegal Portkey," Harry reminded her.

Hermione's hand to travel to the Portkey stowed safely in her pocket. Harry and Ron had demanded she take one with her in case she was unable to Apparate back.

"Yes, that, too," she admitted. "Hopefully, I won't have to use it."

They did not have to go far before they found a nice, secluded place for Hermione to Apparate. It was a small and dark alley between the Hog's Head and the shop next to it, far from the prying eyes of students.

"Right, now you two make sure you keep your eyes on the map. It's a perfect chance for You-know-Who to do You-Know-What, what with most students spending the day in the village," she reminded them.

"And _you_ remember to use your Portkey if you need to and don't do anything stupid," Ron said pointedly.

"Take care of yourself, Hermione," Harry said, patting her shoulder.

Hermione nodded and stepped away from the two. Concentrating carefully on her destination, she spun on the spot and Disapparated from the village. The familiar, though terrible, squeezing sensation engulfed her, but it lasted only a moment, and she soon found herself sprawled flat on her face on what looked like the floor of a forest.

She moaned and crawled slowly to her feet. Her knees and arms were sore from the impact and she had a number of small cuts on her hands. Looking around her, she saw that she was surrounded by trees and shrubs. It seemed to be a forest of sorts, though fortunately, the trees and shrubs were not very dense. From somewhere ahead of her came the sound of running water. She had aimed to arrive right next to the memorial, but she did not seem to be too far off.

Excitedly, she grasped her wand tightly and carefully made her way through the trees. There was hardly a sound around her except for that of the running water, the sound of the leaves and twigs breaking beneath her feet, and the sound of birds chirping in the trees. Occasionally, she thought she heard the far off sounds of leaves being rustled and assumed that there must be wildlife living in forest, too. She sincerely hoped she would not have to meet anything more sinister than a squirrel.

Less than a minute later, she came to an opening in the trees and she saw before her the very scene she had seen in the book. The clear-watered stream cut a curved path through the forest. The water gushed and bubbled in shallower places as it poured over rounded rocks and moved slowly and calmly in deeper places. For a stream, she thought that it was rather wide, for it spammed at least four metres, but it was shallow, much shallower than it had been when the picture was taken. She suspected it was just over half a metre deep in some places, at most.

It did not take long for her to spot the memorial. Its harsh, square edges were a sharp contrast to the rounded rocks surrounding it. Oddly, it seemed that the sun's rays illuminated it in a way that it did not illuminate the other rocks, for it was like a bright beacon in the water.

It was only about two metres away from the bank on which she stood, and fortunately, the water was not very deep at all. Excitedly removing her shoes and robe, she stepped carefully into the water. It came hardly higher than her ankles, though it was cold, so she cast a warming charm on herself. She walked towards the memorial, slowly making her way around the large rocks and fallen branches. By the time she reached the monument, the water was halfway up her thighs.

Bending down carefully, she examined the stone work through the rippled water. Unlike the stones around it, it showed no signs of wear from the flowing water. Just as it had been in the picture, the square slab was intricately carved with the words "Gordric Gryffindor" engraved elaborately across the top. And there in the middle was the small pattern that so perfectly matched her necklace. She reached a hand into the water and traced a finger over it. An eager grin spread across her face.

"This is it," she whispered excitedly before casting a bubble head charm on herself, grasping the necklace in her hands (which were now shaking slightly from excitement), and slowly lowering her head under the water.

She took a moment to adjust to the change. There was a dull roar in her ears from the water rushing past her, though she found that the bubble worked better than any goggles she had ever tried.

Hermione paused for a moment when a thought struck her.

_What if the necklace get's stuck?_

She frowned, examining the pattern more closely. She could not see how it was possible, and at any rate she had her Bubble-head charm to protect her.

So, with her last doubt satisfied, she lowered the necklace until it filled every crevice of the carving. Her anticipation mounted as she saw that it was a perfect fit. Holding her breath, she waited.

And nothing happened.

After a few seconds, disappointment and doubt started to creep into her mind and she pushed the necklace harder against the hard stone.

_Do something! Anything! _

But it did not. Frustrated tears sprang to her eyes and she was engulfed by disappointment. She did not even realise until that moment how much hope she had placed on this slab of rock.

_How could I have been so stupid! It's just a piece of rock! How did I ever think it would have the power to take us home?_

And then it happened. At first, it was only a slight ripple in the water, apparently originating from slab of rock itself. She thought she had imagined it, until another ripple shot through the water, much larger than the first, only to be followed by another and then another, each one more powerful than the previous. Hermione felt her body being pushed roughly by the water and her hands were pulled away from the rock. She braced herself, expecting to be dragged away by current, but she was held back by her necklace. Her eyes widened in shock and horror when she saw that her necklace – which was now glowing – appeared to be fused with the rock. She tried to cry out, but the necklace was choking her as the now turbulent current tried to push her away. The chain cut painfully into her neck, restricting her breathing, and her hands flew to her neck in a futile attempt to free herself, but the necklace had dug so deeply into her skin that she could not get a grasp of it.

And then suddenly, the water turned cold around her and the bubble-head charm failed. Water rushed towards her face, forcing its way into her mouth, nose, and ears. She struggled, aiming her wand to her head, trying to recast the spell, but it was futile. She reached into her pocket clumsily, her hands wrapping around the Portkey, but nothing happened. She could hardly keep her eyes open due to the force of the water and her lungs screamed for air.

_I'm going to die, _she thought, horrified.

Strangely, she soon felt something other than water tugging at her. Something was grasping at her necklace and pulling at her body. She could barely see and a ludicrous image of some kind of giant monster sprang to her mind. Terrified, she struggled against it, when she suddenly felt the necklace tugging at her, dragging her forward by the neck. Through her cloudy vision, a bright flash of light, which seemed to come from the necklace itself, nearly blinded her and she clasped her hand over it to mask the light. Then the rock itself seemed to crumble away, but rather than drift away in the strong water, Hermione saw something that made her freeze in shock.

The rock was falling downwards.

Before she could even register much more than that, she found herself falling face forward through a narrow, vertical tunnel where the rock had been. Water was gushing down loudly all around her and the thing – for she still had not identified it – was still clutching her, falling down with her.

Suddenly, her head struck water and with a terrible, painful splash, she found herself submerged, sinking into what seemed like a bottomless lake. Luckily, she soon managed to reorient herself and, though dizzy and sore, managed to swim back up to the surface. Her head broke thought the surface of the icy water and her lungs, which had been screaming for air, drew in a deep breath of cold and stall air that Hermione cherished nonetheless.

It took a few moments for her to recover some of her strength, but when she did, her vision returned and she could see in the very dim light provided by the opening overhead. She appeared to be in a large, underground cave, most of which was comprised of the deep lake in which she floated. She could hear nothing other than the deafening sound of the water crashing into the lake from the stream far overhead. To her left, she could just make out what appeared to be a stretch of dry land. Remembering the creature that had fallen into the lake with her, she used whatever strength she could muster to swim towards the shore.

Exhausted, she collapsed on the hard rock, unmoving and making no sound except for her deep breathes.

_I'm alive_, she thought gratefully.

And then it hit her.

_This is all Gryffindor's fault! _

"The stupid –" she took a deep breath "– fool! What was that Gryffindor lunatic –" another deep breath "– thinking!" she gasped furiously.

"I don't think he was thinking."

Hermione screamed as a voice other than her own rang through the cave. She struggled quickly to sit up, but the other person was quicker.

"_Expelliarmus_!" he cried.

Hermione felt her wand flying from her hand, but it was the shock of recognising the voice that caused her to gasp.

"_Lumos_," he said and bright light lit the cave, confirming the identity of the other person.

Paler than usual and his hair and clothes dripping wet, his wand was raised and he was regarding her with an expression of smug satisfaction.

Hermione looked at him in amazement.

"_Riddle_?" she exclaimed. "What – what on earth are you doing here?"

"Hmm, that's a good question," he mused, pretending to be thoughtful, "but I can think of a better question. Yes, I'd _really_ like to know why you lied to me, Hermione."

Her insides froze as she was struck with a sudden realisation.

_Galloping gargoyles! He knows about the necklace._

"What?" she asked, feigning ignorance to buy herself more thinking time.

"You heard me," he said coolly, as he twirled his wand between his fingers. Hermione saw that her own wand was in his other hand. "Tell me. Why did you lie? You told me you don't wear your necklace while swimming."

His eyes narrowed at her, challenging her.

Hermione's mouth suddenly went very dry.

"Okay, Riddle," she said, through gritted teeth. "You can drop the façade. After what just happen I'm sure we _both_ know that I can't take the necklace off any more than _you _can."

"You know what the necklace is then?" he asked suspiciously.

"I know… _some_ things. I know it's the Founders' Necklace. I know that only the people who exemplify the characteristics of a certain House can wear it."

"Correct," he said, smiling conceitedly. "So, do enlighten me. Why did you not tell me this yesterday? Why did you _lie_ to me?"

Hermione did not reply as she hurriedly formulated a lie in her mind.

"Well?" he pressed impatiently.

"Because, Riddle," she said slowly, "I also happen to know that there is only _one_ Founders' Necklace, and yet you seemed to have one as well."

"Yes," he said softly. "It would seem so."

Hermione, who was still on her knees, decided to test Riddle's leniency by trying to stand up. Unfortunately, his wand was aimed at her before she had even moved one leg.

"Don't move," he said sharply.

Hermione had to bite her tongue to stop herself from retorting angrily. The seriousness of the situation had not escaped her. She was stuck, wandless, in an underground cave with a young Dark Lord who had just realised that she had been lying to him for company. Things were not looking too good for her and she knew it.

"You still haven't explained how you got here," she said testily.

At that, Riddle smirked gleefully.

"Oh, but it was all too _easy_, Hermione," he said gloating, chuckling softly. "You see, yesterday, after you explain about your necklace, I was rather sceptical. You seemed to be sincere enough and Salazar knows it made sense. After all, there can't be _two_ necklaces, but there was one thing that made me doubt you. Do you have any idea what that might be?"

"No. What?"

"Do you recall our little conversation about changing the OWL's syllabus?"

"Yes," Hermione said slowly with a looming feeling of dread.

"Well, I just found it rather, let's say, _peculiar_ that a person who had received eleven O's was not even aware that the Patronus Charm, the Protean charm, and Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration have been part of the NEWT's curriculum for the past _hundreds_ of years, and were never part of the OWL's year," he said mockingly.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"You – you tricked me," she stuttered. "You lied to me – you – you – oh, I can't believe I fell for it!"

Riddle chuckled.

"Yes, it's pretty obvious now, isn't it? I must say, for someone so smart, you aren't very quick witted."

"Well, that doesn't explain how you found me here," she said angrily.

"Oh, that was simple, really. You should really tell Evans not to go screaming out your name like that when he wants to tell you something so private. After all, you never know who could be barely a flight of stairs below you, pausing to tie up his shoelaces," Riddle said, giving her a pointed look. "Yes, I heard him shout out your name and I heard you reply excitedly. I managed to approach you quietly enough to not be seen, but close enough to hear every word you spoke. That's when I realised you had lied about the necklace."

Hermione gulped. She berated herself, not knowing how she could have been so careless.

"I'd also love to know why Evans and Wesley –" he practically spat our Ron's surname "– had to stay back watching some map and why you seemed to think that this monument held the answer to taking you back home – whatever that means. I absolutely can't wait to hear your version of the tale of how a _Slytherin_ was given access into the Chamber of Godric Gryffindor and I'm sure there is a perfectly plausible explanation for why there appears to be _two_ Founders' Necklaces," he added sarcastically. "Though for now, I'm perfectly happy to leave those matters aside and focus on the fact that we appear to be stranded in an underground cave that no one else has entered for hundreds, if not a thousand, years."

Hermione watched anxiously as Riddle conjured a ball of fire which floated well above his head, adequately lighting most of the cave, while his wand remained aimed at her.

"But you still haven't explained how you got in here," Hermione asked, eyeing the wand anxiously and wondering whether Riddle was aiming it at her out of precaution or because he intended to do her harm.

Riddle looked at her as though she were daft.

"Didn't I?" he asked.

"No," Hermione replied. "I mean, you explained how you knew what I was up to, but how did you get here, in Godric's Hallow? In the cave?"

"Oh, that was easy," Riddle said smugly. "I followed you into Hogsmeade, waited until you Disapparrated, cast a few charms to prevent you from noticing me before following you as you searched for the monument. Then, when you almost got yourself killed, I jumped into the water – which somehow cancelled out my magical disguise – and tried to pull you out, only to find that your necklace was stuck. And then, well – I don't know exactly what happened, but the monument broke away and we ended up in here."

It was Hermione's turn to look incredulous.

"You tried to _save_ me?" she asked slowly.

"Yes, and it's a good thing I did, too," he said, looking around the cave triumphantly.

"How very brave of you," Hermione said, pretending to look impressed.

"Not really," Riddle said casually. "You were drowning in water that barely came up to my knees. A bit embarrassing, really."

Hermione blushed.

"The necklace was magically fused, okay?" she retorted. "It was not embarrassing."

Riddle chuckled.

"If you say so."

Hermione scoffed.

"Well, if my life is so worth saving, why do you have your wand pointed at me?" she asked.

"Precautionary," he replied simply. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't have reacted so well to find a fellow student ambushing such an incredible discovery of mine. Especially not if they just appeared out of nowhere."

"Well, now that you see that I'm not about to ambush you, would you be so kind as to allow me to stand and return my wand?" she asked testily.

Riddle shrugged.

"I don't see why not. I doubt you'd be fast enough to hex me, anyway," he said as he threw her wand to her. "Besides, I think we're both going to need to be vigilant from now on."

Hermione snatched the wand from the ground and scrambled to her feet.

"What makes you say that?" she asked as she cast a drying spell on herself.

Riddle indicated to the stone wall to her left, which she had not noticed before. She turned towards it and saw that there was in fact a stone door camouflaged into the wall. Hermione's heart sank as she realised it was the only way out of the small cave, other than the way they had entered. The inscription carved into it did little to boost her confidence, either.

_Enter only if ye be men of valour. _

* * *

**A/N** - Thanks for reading! :) I hope you enjoyed that. Thanks again to all my reviewers (and everyone reviewing as anon, I _do _read your reviews and appreaciate them!) Also, I recently posted a little Tom Riddle-centered drabble. It's a humour piece called _Tom Riddle, Hogwarts Champion?_. I'd appreacite if you could read that too!

Oh, and I should mention, the inscription "Enter only if ye be men of valour." was inspired by the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail! _  
_


	11. The Whistle

**Chapter 11**

Riddle magically dried himself before giving the door his full attention.

"Men of valour? Interesting," Riddle mused as he ran his long fingers against the harsh stone surface.

Hermione watched him anxiously, realizing that she was facing quite the dilemma. On one hand, she had gained entry into a hidden cave that she was certain was the true reason the monument was built. Who knew what treasure she might find behind that door? It could very well be their ticket home. On the other hand, Riddle was with her; who was to say that he would not attempt to take whatever they might find or even hurt her for it? Nevertheless, it would be comforting to have him enter with her. After all, the warning did sound rather daunting and even if her necklace did provide all the valour she needed, she had no way of knowing whether it would prove the skill. What made her even more wary about the situation was the fact that Riddle obviously had no desires of showing her his true colours. He would probably hide his intentions even more, now that she had so much to offer him.

"Well, unless you know how to fly," Riddle said, indicating the tunnel through which they had fallen, "it looks like this door is our only way out. Valour shouldn't be an issue for you, I suppose? Not with the necklace, at least."

"I'm a _Slytherin_," Hermione said, though knowing it was pointless.

"I very much doubt a _true_ Slytherin would have been allowed access to this," Riddle scoffed. "No, you must be wearing the necklace through Gryffindor. Now, are you coming or not? Unless even with the necklace you're too scared to go forward?"

"A person proves their bravery by facing up to their fears, not by having no fears at all," Hermione said, her head held up high.

"Very well," Riddle said testily. "I'll take that as a yes then?"

"Of course," she replied.

"Right then. I need to figure out how to pass through," Riddle said, as he examined the door.

Hermione looked at the door and realized there was no handle. Instead, there was a ornate bronze doorknocker in the shape of a lion's head.

"It must be through the knocker," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I don't see why else it would be there."

Riddle stared at it for a moment, arms crossed, with an expression of deep concentration. At length, he spoke.

"It's too simple. It could be a trap," he said, as though reasoning with himself. "On the other hand, I don't sense much of a magical aura around the door. I say we give it a try, though keep your wand at the ready."

Wand held out, he approached the door with his arm outstretched.

"Wait!" Hermione said sharply.

"What?"

"Maybe I should do it," she suggested.

"Why you?" he asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Because the monument opened up to _me_. The door might be the same," she explained. "It could be a trap to stop anyone else from entering."

To her surprise, Riddle smirked.

"I knew you weren't as stupid as you let on."

Ignoring him, Hermione reached out hesitantly and grasped the knocker. It was cool to touch. She lifted it and knocked once. The effect was instantaneous. She felt her necklace heat up again and as soon as she removed her hand from the door, it simply started to crumble away.

Riddle's small fire provided just enough light for them to see ahead past the doorway. To Hermione's dismay, they saw nothing but a long, rickety looking wooden bridge passing through what seemed like a valley. The bridge reminded Hermione of the kind that were often featured in Muggle cartoons, with thick ropes as railing and wooden planks. The stone walls were eerily smooth and there was no bottom nor ceiling that the eye could see.

Slowly, Riddle bent down and picked up a large rock which was once part of the door, before throwing it out into the valley. They listened for at least a minute before they heard the dull thud of the rock landing far, far below.

"Well," Riddle said gradually, looking apprehensive though otherwise composed, "I see what they mean about the valour."

"This is crazy," Hermione said, shaking her head. "It's obviously designed to weaken those who fear heights and possibly even those who doubt Muggle engineering, but this is _ridiculous_. How is this safe at all? What was Gryffindor _thinking_?"

"Scared?" Riddle said, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and watched as Riddle carefully stepped forward onto the bridge.

Surprisingly, it did not sway or appear to be strained by his weight at all. He took a few more steps forward and the bridge held him as though it were made of stone.

Riddle laughed, as though at the thought that the bridge was anything to be frightened about.

"It seems stable. Let's go."

Hermione, whose mouth was now too dry to talk, took a step forward and found that her legs were shaking. She stopped and took a deep breath, hoping Riddle would not notice. She stepped out onto the bridge, her hands tightly grasping the thick rope on either side and her eyes looked on the planks of wood beneath her feet. A few more tentative steps forward and she soon found herself standing next to Riddle. They were barely a few metres away from the doorway. The whole time she kept her wand at the ready, not quite trusting Riddle in such a precarious situation.

"Just don't look down and take it slow," Riddle warned, before he continued forward. "We wouldn't want you to do anything that might jeopardise us."

Hermione followed him, every step a challenge due to her shaking legs which now felt as heavy as lead. She had never been fond of heights, and she knew it was the necklace that keep her moving forward.

They continued in silence and soon made it so far forward they could no longer see the door behind them, nor could they see anything up ahead. The only things they could see were the valley walls to their left and right, the bridge beneath their feet, and the darkness below them. Hermione continued, following Riddle's lead. She felt the terror pulling at her heart, ever chasing her, ever trying to seize her, though never enough to stop her. Suddenly, Riddle spoke.

"I see something," he said keenly, causing Hermione to freeze and look forward. Looking around him, she saw what appeared to be another doorway, weakly illuminated by their source. A relieved smile broke out across her face and Riddle, who was some five metres in front of her, started walking again, faster than he had before. It was then that Hermione noticed some movement ahead of them and she looked up, her breath catching in her throat at what she saw.

A giant spider, the size of a small car, was sliding down a thick rope of spider web at astonishing speed. Riddle, whose gaze was fixed on the door, had not seen it and at the rate they were going, they were likely to collide.

"Riddle, look out!" Hermione screamed. "Above you!"

Riddle came to a sudden halt, almost tripping and with his wand raised, he looked up just as the spider– an Acromantula, Hermione realized – leaped off its web and landed with a terrible crash several metres in front of Riddle. The bridge shook below their feet and they each grabbed on to the rope railing.

_I'm going to kill Gryffindor, _Hermione shrieked mentally as Riddle started to walk backwards away from the spider, which had started to slowly advance. Hermione had never seen anything so terrible. She did not know which was worse to watch: its eerie eight eyes or its enormous pincers which kept clicking at fast rate, creating a sickening sound. She finally understood how terrible it must have been for Harry and Ron when they were cornered by the Acromantulas in the forest.

"_Stupefy_!" Riddle shouted, but the spell did nothing but cause the spider to stop for a moment.

"It won't work!" Hermione cried anxiously, as Riddle shot the spell. "You can't stupefy Acromantulas! Most basic spells won't work!" she added when he cried _Petrificus Totalus_.

"I don't see you helping!" Riddle snapped.

Hermione searched her brain for something – anything – that might help, as Riddle raised his wand again, casting spell after spell that she did not recognize, none of them having any significant affect, until –

"_Avada Kedavra!_" he shouted.

A flash of green light briefly lit the valley and the spider collapsed onto the bridge, its eight eyes now lifeless.

There was stunned silence. For a moment, Hermione could only stare at him. She was not shocked by the spell, but by the coldness in his voice.

"Well, that was easy," he muttered, before laughing humourlessly out of relief.

"You – you used an Unforgivable," Hermione stuttered, looking at Riddle accusingly. It was not so much the use of an Unforgivable that surprised her, but the fact that he has actually used it in front of a witness that he had no reason to trust.

Riddle turned and gave her a condescending look.

"And?" he asked defiantly, his eyes hard.

"You can't do that!" she cried. "It's illegal!"

"Sweet Salazar, woman," Riddle said quietly, though with some indignation, "I just _saved_ our lives. Did you see any other spells working?"

Hermione did not reply, because she knew he was right. She just wished he did not have to use that curse.

"How do you even know that curse, anyway?" she asked bitterly.

"Everyone knows that curse," he replied.

"Have you used it before?" she asked.

"Not on anything living. And you'd be smart not to mention that to anyone. Understood?" he added, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Understood," she said grudgingly.

Hermione did not know why she was so disappointed. It was Tom Riddle after all. Perhaps it was because she had never expected such a blatant display of the Dark Arts.

_Get a grip, Hermione. He's already opened the Chamber of Secrets, and will kill his parents some time before he enters Seventh year. What were you expecting?_

She wondered if he was telling the truth about never having used the curse on anything living.

She watched as Riddle levitated the dead spider out of their path and let it drop over the side of the bridge. This time, the thud was much louder.

"Come on," Riddle ordered. He continued walking while looking around carefully.

Hermione followed him and found that the last twenty metres were not quite as frightening as the first. After facing the Acromantula, walking across a bridge was rather tame.

At last, they came to the doorway, both more relieved to find their feet on solid ground than they were willing to admit. Passing through it, they found themselves in a long, arched corridor and continued forward in silence. The walls and ceiling were covered in enormous spider webs and Hermione sincerely hoped that there were not anymore Acromantulas waiting for them.

Some time later, they found themselves in a small stone chamber which, unlike the previous paths, was brightly lit and glamorously furnished. The two looked around the room in awe. The walls were draped by thick red and gold satin sheets which looked as if they were brand new. On the wall directly in front of them was a large sheet imprinted with a lion's head and the words "Godric Gryffindor".

"This is amazing!" she gushed excitedly, as her eyes roamed the room. "This is absolutely, positively one of the most amazing things I've_ ever_ seen!"

A number of life-sized, moving portraits caught her eye. Each one of them contained at least one person – the same four people. There was no mistaking them. They were the founders. Tall and strong stood Godric Gryffindor, with a mane of brown hair on his head and face. Hermione recognized his Goblin-made sword which was always at his side. Shorter and chubbier stood Helga Hufflepuff, surrounded by adoring children wherever she went, her friendly face adorned by bright blue eyes and curly, golden locks. She was a far cry from the tall and striking Rowena Ravenclaw, whose long silky black hair cascaded around her attractive face. She was featured most often surrounded by her books. Appearing least of all was Salazar Slytherin. He was older than the rest, tallest and thinnest of all. His stern grey eyes looked as though they could pierce though a person's soul. It was no surprise to Hermione that he was best known for his skills in Legilimency.

There were at least twenty artworks lining the walls. All original as far as Hermione could see. All ancient and all… most likely _priceless_.

"Hermione," Riddle called breaking her train of thought. "You might want to come have a look at this."

Hermione turned to see Riddle standing by what appeared to be a short, white marble Roman pillar in the centre of the room. She did not know how she had missed it. She approached and found Riddle looking at a small golden relic seated on top of the pillar. She saw that it was a whistle in the shape of a lion's head. It was small, the size of a large marble, and contained two bright red rubies for the lion's eyes. Carved into the marble surface on which it sat was a message. It read:

_Dear Valiant Sire,_

_I, Godric Gryffindor, personally congratulate you on your feat of gaining access to this hidden Chamber – an honour permitted only to the most worthy of Gryffindors. They are few who would be chosen by the Founder's Necklace and fewer still who would have shown the courage to pass across the bridge and Acromantula while not knowing what prize awaited them. Know now that no harm would have befallen you; the water could hurt but not kill, and the bridge was enchanted to save the faller. The Acromantula, a gift from a far away land, was instructed to not poison or kill._

Hermione snorted. So she had been right. Gryffindor would never have let anyone fall to their death, but he obviously wanted them to believe that he would.

_And thus, good Sire, you have proven yourself worthy of possessing the last of my inheritance. All that you see in this Chamber is yours. This golden treasure upon this pedestal is the Whistle of Gryffindor. It will bring immediate aid to any true Gryffindor who blows it while wearing the Founder's Necklace. None but he can remove it from this pedestal and none but he can activate it. Be warned – it works only at times of true necessity. Use it well. _

_To leave this Chamber, the whistle has been charmed to act as a Portkey when first touched. It can also be used to return to the Chamber. Upon your death, the Whistle will instantly return to this Chamber, as will anything else that is removed._

_Yours truly in good faith,_

_Godric Gryffindor_

Hermione stared at the Whistle in awe, honoured that she should be its owner.

"You know," Riddle said slowly, "he didn't seem to be expecting a _woman_ to find this place. What with all the 'Dear Valiant Sire' and 'None but _he_ can remove it'."

Hermione could see that Riddle was trying to be unaffected, to put her down even, but the greedy glint in his eyes was all too evident as he looked at the Whistle. He wanted it. Luckily, he would not be able to use it, but Hermione did not believe that that would stop him from trying to take it. She would have to be careful.

She reached out her hand tentatively to touch the white marble, but Riddle grabbed her hand, preventing her.

"What?" she asked, shocked by the action.

"Are you trying to leave me behind?" he hissed.

"_Relax_. I wasn't going to touch the Whistle," she said defensively, "but since you're still grasping my hand as if your life depended on it, then I assume this is as good a time as any to leave?"

She hastily reached out and grabbed the Whistle before Riddle had a chance to protest, wanting little more than to get him away from the Chamber before he could do anymore damage or catch a glance of something that might spark his interest.

As soon as her hand made contact with the cool Portkey, she felt a familiar pull at her naval and a moment later, she landed unsteadily on her feet in the bright sunlight. The rocks made the footing treacherous, causing her to fall into the stream – right on top of the monument, in fact, which appeared to have righted itself. She struggled as she hit the water, but she soon felt a pair of hands grasping and pulling her upright. As she coughed out the water that she had accidentally breathed in and brushed her wet hair out of her face, she heard a youthful voice cry out.

"Hey! What are you naughties doing in the water?"

Hermione looked up, bewildered, and saw a young boy of no older than four years standing by the bank and looking at them in shock. Next to him, a toy broomstick hovered around his waist.

"Daddy said its naughty to stand on Gryfadoor's rock!" he said, giving them a childish glare.

Hermione and Riddle exchanged a bemused look before Riddle approached the child. Hermione used the distraction to stow the Whistle away safely in her pocket and with some quick wand work, placed a number of protective charms on her pocket in case Riddle tried to go after it.

"What are you doing here all by yourself?" Riddle asked the boy.

The boy stood up tall and puffed out his chest.

"Mummy says I'm a big boy! Mummy and Daddy let me go anywhere I want by myself!"

Riddle looked at the kid sceptically. She, too, wondered what the little boy was doing all alone and very much doubted his version of events. Suddenly, the answer came in the form of a strong male voice calling from a little further down the track.

"Fabius?" the voice called, sounding worried. "Fabius? Where are you?"

"Oh no!" the little boy, who Hermione presumed to be Fabius, gasped, looking suddenly frightened before trying to jump back on to his broomstick. In his eagerness, however, he tripped and fell to the floor, by which time the man had approached them closely enough to spot him. Hermione saw that he was an older man with a head of white hair, thought he seemed very active for his age.

"Fabius Watkins!" he cried, sounding relieved. A scowl appeared on his face. "Come back here this instant! Didn't I tell you not to go off ahead on your own?" He then noticed Tom and Hermione and added, "You haven't been annoying strangers again, have you?"

Fabius looked down guiltily at his feet.

"Sorry, Grandpa," he said, pretending and failing to look sorry. He lifted his head up suddenly, his bright eyes wide, and, pointing an accusing finger at Riddle and Hermione said, "But Grandpa, they were being naughty! They were standing on Gryfadoor's rock!"

The Grandfather, who had paid little attention to the pair, looked at them through narrowed eyes, taking in their wet appearances. His eyes lingered on Riddle's cloak.

"Is that true?" he asked suspiciously.

Hermione was about to answer before Riddle cut her off.

"It was accident, sir," Riddle said earnestly. "We didn't mean any disrespect. My girlfriend here," he gestured towards Hermione, who fought hard to mask her shock, "wanted to see the monument up close. She has much love and respect for the Hogwart's Founders, you see. I do as well, but she couldn't contain her excitement and jumped into the water for a better look. Unfortunately, she tripped and landed on the monument which was why I jumped in after her, to help her. That's when young Fabius here interrupted us, as I was helping her out of the water."

Hermione nodded along with everything Riddle said, acting as though the story was not new to her and even managed to fake a slight blush at the mention of her clumsiness. The wizard seemed mollified at least.

"I'm sorry about Fabius. There's no controlling that boy around a broom."

"It's not a problem, sir," Riddle said. "Please, don't let us delay you. The young man seems eager to be off on his broom again," he added, indicating to Fabius, who was again mounting his broom.

"Have a nice day," the older man said before rushing after his grandson, who had already zoomed away shouting, "Byeeeee!"

Riddle looked after them as though he were contemplating something.

"I hope he didn't realise that we should be at Hogwarts."

"True," Hermione said, frowning. She then suggested, "Maybe we should go back, before someone does realize we're missing," while privately thinking that the sooner she got away from Riddle, the better. Especially now that she had the Whistle.

"What's the hurry? No one is going to notice, it's a Hogsmeade weekend after all. Besides, I think we have some _issues_ we need to discuss, don't you?" he said pointedly, indicating to her necklace. It did not escape her notice that he was again twirling his wand in his fingers while his eyes locked on hers. She wondered if that was his subtle way of threatening her. Fortunately for him, she had no reason not to comply.

"I see," she said, sitting down on a rock while Riddle sat down opposite her. "Where would you like to start?"

"For one thing, where did you _really_ get your necklace from?" he asked. "And don't even _think_ of lying again. I'll find out."

Hermione frowned and said, "You know, if I tell you the truth, then I expect the same in return."

Riddle considered her for a moment, as though weight in up his options. He then smiled and agreed with her.

"Okay. I promise I won't lie. Will that do?"

Personally, Hermione thought it would not do at all, but there was little more that she could do than play on.

"Right. Well, what I told you before was mostly true," Hermione started to say, pretending to look thoughtful. "I did inherit the necklace from my mother, but I had no idea it existed until it was passed down to me. Mother never wore it, and I assume that it was because she couldn't wear it. But I could – as soon as I tried it on I couldn't remove it, no matter what spell I cast. It wasn't until I reached Hogwarts and looked it up in the library that I understood why."

Riddle nodded, his brows furrowed in thought. "That's right, it can't be removed once it's chosen you, but this doesn't make sense at all. They can't _both_ be real – there's only meant to be _one_ necklace," he added, putting much stress on the way he said one. "And yet we both seem to have one, and they both seem to be real. Have you read anything about there being _two_ necklaces?" he challenged.

"No, I haven't," she answered truthfully.

Riddle stood up and started pacing.

"I suppose it's not impossible. A lot of mystery surrounds the necklace. Its existence is denied all together by most historians. It's possible there were two, perhaps even more, and it was just never recorded. One for each founder, perhaps?" he mused, before turning to her sharply. "Perhaps you can now explain how you managed to wear the necklace as a _Gryffindor_?" he asked, frowning in dislike.

Hermione shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Although, the hat did consider whether I belonged in Gryffindor or Slytherin."

"And what made it decide to put you in Slytherin?"

Hermione paused for a second, remembering what Harry had told them.

"I asked it to," she said slowly, "because it had already put Harry in Slytherin."

"Are you sure that's why?" he asked, looking disbelieving.

Hermione nodded.

"No," Riddle scoffed, shaking his head. "That's ridiculous. The hat can't just put people wherever they want to go. It defeats the whole purpose of the House system."

Hermione resisted the urge to raise a sceptical eyebrow.

"Well, how else do you explain it?" she retorted.

He paused for a moment.

"I don't know, but I do know that there is more to you than what meets the eye," he said matter-of-factly. "What I don't know is if you know the truth and are hiding it from me, or whether you're genuinely confused as well."

Hermione rolled eyes.

"How do you expect _me_ to know how this thing works? I hardly know anything about it, to begin with."

Riddle smirked.

"You're right. I wouldn't expect you to know. But then again, you never fail to surprise me. Now, you mentioned something to Evans yesterday about going home and the necklace having the answer to that. What was that about?" he asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Now _that_ is none of your business, Riddle," she said, crossing her arms across her chest and looking at him defiantly. "Just because you've developed a habit of eavesdropping, it doesn't mean that I have to justify myself to you."

Riddle watched her unhappily, his lips pursed.

"Fine," he said coolly, though Hermione knew he would not give up so easily. She would have to warn Harry and Ron to be extra vigilant.

"Well, now it's your turn," she said. "How did you get the necklace?"

Riddle laughed coldly, as though mocking her.

"You don't need to know," he smirked.

Hermione, who had been expecting him to be less than truthful, was shocked by the outright display of dishonesty.

"You promised!" she said through narrowed eyes.

"I only promised that I would not lie," Riddle said smoothly. "I'm not lying if I don't say anything at all, am I?"

Hermione glared at him, furious that she had not realized that loophole. She was soothed only by the knowledge that everything she had told him was false.

Deciding she'd had enough, Hermione stood up, still glaring at Riddle, who stopped laughing abruptly and looked alarmed. He raised his wand in defence, but it was in vain as Hermione simply spun on the spot, Apparating back to Hogsmeade. He was faster than she was, however, and he grabbed her arm before she had completed her spin, forcing him along with her in side along Apparition.

When Hermione arrived, she was furious.

"What were you thinking!" she snapped at Riddle, wrenching her arm out of his grip. "You could have gotten us Splinched!"

"You should have thought about that before you tried to leave without me," he said coldly.

Hermione was about to retort when she suddenly noticed the shelves behind Riddle. They were full of owls. Surprised, she looked around and recognized the Hogsmeade post office.

"Yes, I can see why you chose this location. Most discreet." Riddle drawled.

"I didn't choose to come here," she said, frowning. "I was aiming for the place I Disapparated from."

Suddenly, an expression of realization dawned on Riddle's face. He held out a hand, but he could not extend it forward completely. Hermione watched him, confused, and raised her own arm, only to find, to her surprise, that there was an invisible barrier surrounding them.

"The Apparation wards are up," Riddle said, looking alarmed. "Anyone Apparating into Hogsmeade is forced to arrive in the post office."

"Why would they do that?" Hermione said anxiously.

Before Riddle could reply, a wizard who Hermione assumed worked in the post office appeared from the back room. He was holding a number of old, dirty owl cages.

"Just a moment," he called out as he struggled to put the cages away on a shelf before turning towards them.

As he approached them, Hermione saw that he was wearing a monocle and his tattered clothing was covered in owls droppings and feathers.

"Right," he said, once he was standing in front of them, taking a good look at their uniforms. "I expect you're the young couple who was wondering off to Godric's Hollow, then?"

Hermione stared at him in shock. How did he know?

"Now, what was I meant to do when you two arrived?" he muttered to himself. "Ah, yes! Contact what's-his-name. Sherbet? No, no, _Herbert_, yes. Beery Herbert – no, Herbert Beery."

Hermione and Riddle exchanged a worried glance as the man hurried over to the fireplace.

"What are we going to _do_?" Hermione whispered frantically as alibi after alibi rushed through her mind, each one more feeble than the last.

"It's simple for you," Riddle said ruefully. "You're new here. You can pretend you didn't know you weren't allowed to leave the village.

Hermione paused for a moment, feeling a flicker of hope.

"That could work," she admitted, "but what about you?"

"I don't know," he said, his expression hard. Hermione knew he was worried that he would lose his badge. "Wait, did that man call us a couple?" he asked quickly.

"Yes, he did," Hermione said, scowling, not liking the reference at all.

"Excellent. We can pretend that you thought it would be romantic – or something ridiculous like that – to surprise me by Apparating us to Godric's Hollow," he suggested, looking relieved. "That way I wouldn't get in trouble. I didn't know it was going to happen and you're not familiar with the rules."

"I am not _going_ to pretend –" Hermione started angrily.

"If you don't do what I say, I'll tell them that you left the school without permission and dragged me with you even after I told you it isn't allowed, and that as a prefect, I felt it is my duty to bring you back."

Hermione, feeling very offended, tried to retort but Riddle cut her off.

"Hush, darling," Riddle said soothingly, slipping his hand into hers. "Professor Beery! How good to see you, sir."

Though still angry and fighting back a blush at the feel of his hand in hers, Hermione turned around and saw that Professor Beery, their somewhat overenthusiastic Herbology teacher, was approaching them, having apparently arrived by the Floo network.

"Tom!" he said, looking shocked upon recognizing Riddle. "Why, I didn't realize you were the troublemaker we were after!"

Riddle somehow managed to force a blush on his cheeks and look properly ashamed of himself.

"I understand I must have let the Professors down, sir, but I hope you will at least listen to our version of events. I'm sure you'll agree it was simply a misunderstanding," Riddle said.

"Oh, I'm sure it is, son!" Professor Beery said, casting him a sympathetic look. Hermione marveled at how easy Riddle was able to bend teachers to his will. "Unfortunately, it is not up to me to decide. Come along now, come along. It's Hermione, isn't it? Yes, I recognized you. Now, where did Jeffrey go? Jeffrey!" he called. "Ah, yes. Could you lower the wards – yes, that's right, thank you."

Professor Beery indicated for them to follow and Hermione found they were no longer trapped by the invisible barrier. She and Riddle followed Professor Beery to the fireplace.

"Now, we'll just need to say Professor Dumbledore's office, once you've stepped into the fire," the Professor explained.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Riddle said sharply. "Why are we going to see him? Professor Slughorn is our Head of House."

"Yes, yes, I know, Tom. However, Professor Slughorn is still in the hospital wing after, er, overindulging last night."

Hermione could not help but smirk at the thought, but it was short-lived. She had hoped not to give Professor Dumbledore any reason to notice her, lest he was compelled to investigate into her background. Besides, with Riddle being Slughorn's favourite student they would have surely gotten away with barely a slap on the wrist.

"Ah, before you go, Tom, I had a favour I thought I might ask," Professor Beery said.

"What's that, Professor?" Riddle asked politely.

"I wonder if you had seen the notices I put up yesterday?"

When Riddle shook his head, Professor Beery continued.

"Well, you see, Tom," he said enthusiastically, "Professor Dippet has given me permission to organize a school play to be performed before everyone leaves for the Winter break. I've chosen _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_ – such a lovely story! And, well now, just to add to the authenticity, I was hoping to have the parts of Lord Luckless and Amata played by a real life couple. I'd be delighted if you and your Lady friend here would consider auditioning for the part."

Riddle's expression became suddenly fixed, as did Hermione's. For a horrid moment, she thought that Riddle might consider accepting the offer but –

"That's very kind of you, Professor," Riddle said softly, "but I couldn't possibly commit to such a project. Our sixth year is well underway and I can't see how I could make the time for practice."

Professor Beery looked visibly disappointed.

"Oh, well, if you're sure. Auditions are next Saturday, if you change your mind!"

_Like that's likely._

"Now, off you go then, you two. Professor Dumbledore will be expecting you."

Riddle went first, disappearing in a flash of green fire, followed quickly by an anxious Hermione.

* * *

**A/N** - Well, given the amount of trouble this chapter caused me, I hope you enjoyed that! Please let me know what you think! :) The Fountain of Fair Fortune is one of the stories from Rowling's The Tales of Beedle the Bard!


	12. The Halloween Feast

**Chapter 12**

When Hermione emerged from the fireplace in Professor Dumbledore's office, she found the Transfiguration Professor considering Riddle in surprise. She could hardly blame Dumbledore, of course. After all, while it was very much like Riddle to disregard the rules, it was most unusual for him to be actually caught doing so.

"And Miss Jean as well?" Dumbledore said inquisitively. He did not appear too angry, but there was no mistaking the disappointment in his voice. Hermione felt immediately guilty. Riddle, on the other hand, appeared to be perfectly at ease, his expression completely unreadable.

"Please, take a seat," Professor Dumbledore said, indicating the two chairs opposite his desk while he sat down in his own seat. He considered them solemnly for a while before speaking. "Barely a few minutes ago, I received word from a wizard that he had spotted two Hogwarts students, a male and a female, claiming to be a couple –" Hermione struggled to hide a wince "– at the Monument of Gryffindor in Godric's Hollow. We set up the Hogsmeade Apparition Wards immediately and I must confess that you two were amongst the last students I had expected to catch. Perhaps you would like to explain yourselves?"

Hermione glanced at Riddle, not knowing if she should speak or not, but he did not look at her. Instead, he was looking at Professor Dumbledore rather remorsefully.

"You see, Professor, what happened is this. Hermione and I had meet up at Hogsmeade and planned to spend the day together. Hermione said she had a surprise for me and asked me to close my eyes, which I did. The next thing I knew, I was being Apparated out of Hogsmeade. She had taken us to Godric's Hollow; she had always wanted to visit the Monument of Gryffindor and thought it would make for a pleasant afternoon. However, in her defense, Professor, she confessed to me that she was not aware that we were not permitted to leave Hogsmeade during our trips."

"I see," Professor Dumbledore said slowly, turning to Hermione. "Do you agree with this version of events, Hermione?"

"Yes, Professor," she muttered, feeling terribly guilty for lying to her future Headmaster.

"You were not aware that leaving Hogsmeade was not permissible during the trips?"

"No, Professor."

"And do you have an Apparition license?" he asked shrewdly.

Hermione froze, blushing furiously. Her illegal Apparition had not even occurred to her. For a moment, she considered lying and claiming that she did, but she dismissed the idea immediately. It would be too easy for Dumbledore to verify the information for himself at the ministry.

"No, Professor," she admitted, bowing her head, no longer able to meet his gaze.

"Miss Jean, I must impress on you the seriousness of this breach. Illegal Apparition is a grave crime, but to have taken along a non-consenting student, who may have been Splinched by the act, is very irresponsible indeed."

Hermione said nothing, but felt her jaw hardening, hating the fact that she was now being blamed for the harm _she_ may have inflicted on _Tom Riddle_!

She heard Dumbledore sigh.

"You will both be receiving detention and thirty points will be taken from Slytherin."

Hermione's head shot up and she was glad that Professor Dumbledore was looking at Riddle and not herself, because she could not help but smirk slightly at the punishment. Riddle, on the other hand, looked shocked.

"But Professor," he said imploringly, "I had nothing to do with this, as I just explained."

"Perhaps not, Tom," said Professor Dumbledore, "but I have consulted the Magical Detection Unit at the Ministry and they informed me that the most recent Apparition from Hogsmeade had been almost an hour ago. Miss Jean might have acted without your knowledge, but I don't see what prevented the two of you from returning as soon as it was clarified that school rules had been broken."

Riddle greeted that explanation in silence and though his expression appeared impassive, Hermione could see that his fists were clenched on his lap.

"You will receive notices in regards to the time and location of your detention later this evening. You may leave. However, I must ask you not to return to Hogsmeade today," Professor Dumbledore said, standing up and seeing them towards the door.

They followed him silently and much to Hermione's surprise, Riddle slipped his hand into hers, causing her to blush again.

_Of course he wanted to ensure that Dumbledore had no reason to doubt our story_, she thought.

Hermione noticed Professor Dumbledore glancing at their entwined hands and was surprised to see a flicker of concern pass through his eyes briefly.

"Oh, and Miss Jean," Professor Dumbledore added once they had left the office. "Headmaster Dippet has informed me that he has yet to receive a response to the owl he sent your referee. Can you perhaps explain this?"

Hermione felt a nervous flutter in her stomach and was immediately glad for the Occlumency charm. She pretended to look surprised.

"How long ago was the owl sent, Professor?"

"Some four or five days, I expect."

"Oh, well, the reply shouldn't be too much longer then, sir. He lives very far away from Hogwarts and I expect the owl has taken a while to reach him."

Dumbledore nodded and wished them good day before closing the door.

Hermione immediately pulled her hand out of Riddle's before glaring at him and said as they walked away from Professor Dumbledore's office, "We need to talk. _Now_."

"Do we?" he asked condescendingly, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! How long do you plan to pretend that we're dating for? And how far do you plan to take this?" she whispered furiously. "The lie has already been feed to Dumbledore and Beery and we obviously can't just stop pretending now. It would be much too suspicious!"

Riddle nodded, smirking slightly.

"I'm glad you realized. _However_," he said, adding much emphasis to his wording and giving her a pointed look, "I assure you I take as little pleasure in this façade as you do, if not much less, so we will keep it to bare minimum. It will be enough for us to be seen eating together often, walking in the corridors together between classes, and studying together in the library occasionally. You may sit next to me in class. We could even break it off in a week or two."

"The sooner the better. I'll see you at the feast then. Be sure to save a seat for me," she added, with a slight grimace before breaking away from him. He headed towards the library while she made for the common room. Sourly, she was contemplating how she had possibly landed herself in this situation and dreading Harry and Ron's reaction when a thought suddenly hit her, causing her to freeze mid step.

_Dumbledore. _

The thought that the Dumbledore of her own time had made the connection between her, Harry, and Ron being the same Hermione, Harry, and Ron that had appeared at Hogwarts in the forties had often occurred to her, and they had discussed it a number of times. None of them had ever had any evidence that their Dumbledore knew nor could they think of any hints he might have dropped. However, it seemed impossible that he would not make the connection and it thoroughly annoyed Harry and Ron that he had never thought to warn them.

_But… if Dumbledore thinks I'm dating Riddle… does that mean the future Dumbledore recognized it as betrayal? What if he had never learned that it was all pretend? What if he spent all these years thinking that the girl he allowed to befriend Harry Potter was in fact a traitor?_

Hermione felt sick. She resolved to make sure that this situation with Tom and herself did not get out of hand. And she would explain it all to him when they got home.

_If we get home._

She shook the negative thought out of her head and continued walking, her thoughts returning to Riddle. Her guilt return and only increased when she realized she was not even disgusted by the fact that he had held her hand.

_Shouldn't I be?_ She thought uncertainly. _He is Voldemort, after all. Even if he is only a younger, handsomer, and more charming version_.

It was precisely his charming ways that made it hard for her to think of him as the Dark Lord. She was almost glad that he had used the Unforgivable earlier that day – it reminded her of who she was dealing with.

Most desirably, her train of thought was broken in the Entrance Hall where she was stopped by Minerva McGonagall.

"Hermione?" the Gryffindor prefect called out.

Hermione turned and saw Minerva looking at her unsurely.

"Oh, hello, Minerva," Hermione said politely. "Why aren't you at Hogsmeade?"

"I had to come back early. I promised a friend to help her with the Transfiguration homework," she explained. With an uncertain look she added, "Are you okay? There's been some rumours going around about you."

"What kind of rumours?" Hermione said, groaning.

"Word is going around that you and Riddle snuck out of Hogsmeade together, but got caught when you Apparated back. You were seen in the Post Office being escorted back to the castle by Professor Beery. It's not true, is it?" she asked anxiously.

"Actually, it is," Hermione admitted reluctantly as Minerva's eyes widened at her admission. "I didn't break the rules on purpose," she added quickly. "I didn't know we weren't allowed to leave Hogsmeade."

"You might not have, but Tom certainly did," Minerva said accusingly, looking shocked by Riddle's behavior.

"Yes, but he didn't know I was Apaprating us out of Hogsmeade," she admittedly sourly.

_I can't believe I'm defending Riddle to Minerva! _

"Oh, okay. Well, I hope you didn't get into too much trouble, but look, I've been wanting to ask you something since last night," Minerva said, looking at her worriedly.

"What is it?" Hermione replied, frowning.

"You didn't happen to see who cast that spell on you, did you?"

"No," Hermione said sharply. "Why? Do you know who it was?"

"Well, you see, that's the thing," Minerva said uncomfortably. "I know who did it and I know as a Prefect it's my duty to report it, but you see, the person who did it was a friend of mine."

As a former prefect herself, Hermione immediately understood her predicament, but her anger at the person behind the attack was still strong.

"I see. So you don't want to turn her in, because of your friendship?" she asked.

Minerva blushed.

"It's up to you, Hermione," she said quickly. "It's not fair for me to stand in the way of justice, so I thought I'd ask you. If it's what you want, I can turn her in."

Hermione immediately recognized Minerva's love for adhering to the rules which characterized her older self.

"Maybe you can just tell me who the person was?" Hermione asked, thinking she can get her own revenge.

"It was Lauren."

Hermione stared in surprise.

"What?" she asked blankly. "Does – does she fancy _Riddle_?"

"Yes," Minerva said, rolling her eyes. "It was stupid of her, I know. But she, er, doesn't really like you to be honest."

"Why not? Because I'm a Slytherin, right? Well, honestly! Riddle is a Slytherin, too!"

Minerva shrugged and smiled.

"I know. That's what I told her, but she insists that Tom is _different_ from the others," Minerva said. "And, well, do you want me to turn her in?"

Hermione paused for a moment, thinking that Lauren fancied the very person who had tried to kill her. She was too moved by pity to be angry at her and so she shook her head.

"No, just forget about it, but tell her you'll have to turn her in if she tries it for a second time, won't you?"

Minerva smiled in relief.

"Thanks for that, Hermione. I'll definitely tell her!" she said appreciatively. "I was just on my way to see her, in fact. I'll see you in class!"

Hermione watched fondly as the young Minerva hurried away before making her way to her common room. The first task she started on, once in the privacy of her dormitory, was to increase the wards on her bed. Not only did she have jealous girls to worry about, but there was also the threat of Riddle sneaking into her dorm to steal the Whistle. She set up every ward she could think off, blocking access to her personal space to even Hogwarts house elves. Once she was satisfied that even Riddle would not be able to get through without her knowing, she sat in bed and drew the curtains around her before taking out the Whistle.

It was the first time she had the chance of actually looking at it since she had grabbed it. She noticed what she had overlooked before - it felt remarkably cool to touch. It did not warm, even after it had been in her hands for a while. She thought back to what the note had said, about how blowing it will bring her help if she was in great need. She certainly was not in any need at the moment and wondered what would happen if she blew it. Cautiously, she lifted the Whistle to her lips and blew it, but nothing happened. It did not produce any sound at all.

Hermione spent the next few hours in her dormitory, alternating between looking at and thinking about the Whistle, writing the letter from their 'referee' to Headmaster Dippet, and reading through some books she had borrowed from the library in search for information about the Founder's Necklace. It did not escape her notice that in all her reading, she had never come across anything that even alluded to the Whistle of Gryffindor, which only served to increase her pride in knowing that she possessed it.

A few hours before the Halloween Feast was set to start, a first year Slytherin girl came to her dormitory and told her that Harry and Ron were asking for her. Hermione did not particularly like the way she was smirking, a suspicion that was confirmed when the girl suggested that Tom would not be happy with those too hanging at the bushy-haired witch's tail.

Sighing dramatically, Hermione put her books away and stowed the Whistle safely in her pocket (to which she had also added some extra protection charms) before walking to the common room. It felt like a repeat of the previous day, only the news she had to delivery this time was much worse.

Harry and Ron both looked immensely relieved to see her and started talking at once.

" – were so worried, you said you'd come back to the place you Apparated from –"

" – waiting all day, I thought you'd died! If Harry hadn't thought to look for you in the castle –"

"Guys, _please_," Hermione said, somewhat amused, before adding in a whisper. "I have important news to tell you, come on. We can talk in the Room of Requirement."

Hermione refused to speak another word about her escapade until they were safely in the Room of Requirement, though that did not stop Ron from asking question after question on the way.

"Okay," Hermione said anxiously when they were comfortably seated. "I'm going to tell you what happened, but you aren't going to like it. Just stay calm, okay?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look before waiting for Hermione to continue.

"Harry, Riddle overheard you telling me about the monument last night. He followed me To Godric's Hollow."

"_What_?" Ron roared, jumping up from his seat. "What do you mean he followed you? Is this why you took so long to return? That filthy git! Did he hurt you?"

"Ron, sit down," Hermione said, exasperated. "No, he didn't hurt me. Actually, he treated me rather well, considering the circumstances, which is all the more worrying, I guess."

Hermione quickly explained what had occured, mentioning everything she could remember and leaving out nothing. She paused only to show them the Whistle she had acquired, which they considered with awe. Naturally, neither Harry nor Ron was too happy that Riddle was forcing her to pretend to be his girlfriend.

"He must have something more sinister planned," Harry said darkly. "Especially now that he knows you're not stupid and that you have what he wants – the Whistle."

"It's possible," Hermione admitted uncomfortably, though she continued to hope that it was simply a device to make their story more believable. "Anyway, what did you spend all day doing?"

Suddenly, Ron jumped up from his seat.

"Oh, you know what, I just remember something I forgot to do!" he said somewhat overenthusiastically. "Harry, you can take over from here, can't you? Excellent. I'll see you at dinner!"

And with that, he practically ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Hermione was initially bewildered before becoming suspicious.

"He's done something, hasn't he?" she asked. "The coward…"

"Er, well, you see, this is what happened," Harry started nervously. "Once you'd left, I asked Ron what we should do while we waited… and he pretty much said that he, er, well, had a date to go to with that girl he took to the party last night."

Hermione stared at Harry, dumbstruck, until her anger got the better of her.

"Oh, he did, did he?" she remarked angrily. "So what? Are they together now?"

"Er, pretty much, yeah," Harry said, looking apologetic and watching her as though he expected her to explode. "I told him it was stupid and that he shouldn't play with her like that. I mean, you never know when we'll manage to go back to the future and he'll just have to leave her."

"Yes and I expect that went down well with him, didn't it?" she snapped.

"He pretty much said that I was being paranoid, but, er, on the bright side, I met her and she's no Lavendar, so I guess that's a plus," he said.

"What's her name?"

"Scarlett Platt," Harry said. Looking rather nervous, he asked, "How do you feel about this?"

Hermione fumed. She felt like she was about to start breathing fire, but there was one thought that was clear in her mind.

"Ron is an utter, total, complete _prat_," she practically snarled. "And I'm _sick_ of it. I don't want anything to do with him anymore. You'd have _thought_ that after the whole Lavender fiasco – but no. No, he didn't learn. He doesn't care. _Fine_. If this is what he wants, then see if I care."

And this time, she meant it. He obviously did not return her feelings and she was sick to death of waiting. What little feelings she had left for him seemed to disappear on the spot.

And then an idea occurred to her.

_Riddle._

Much to Harry's amazement, a wicked grin crept across her face. She was suddenly looking forward to the Halloween Feast.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Harry and Hermione made their way down to the Halloween Feast. Harry, who had unwittingly given in to Hermione's pleas and agreed to sit next to her and Riddle, made his way forward with a grim expression while Hermione smiled pleasantly, though with a somewhat suspicious sparkle in her eye.

They entered the Great Hall along with a number of other latecomers and found that the Halloween decorations were somewhat similar to their own, though markedly less extravagant and with an obvious 1940's touch. Hermione's eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table and she found Riddle seated with a few spare seats by his side. He caught her eyes and smiled at her, making a big point of beckoning her over so that anyone sitting around him was sure to notice. Hermione saw, to her pleasure, that Ron was seated opposite him with Alphard and Abraxas.

She took her seat next to Riddle and Harry sat down next to her.

"Hello, Riddle," she said pleasantly as she sat down. She hoped Ron was watching.

Riddle smiled at her enticingly and, to her surprise and embarrassment, leaned in towards her and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. He was so close that she could feel his warm breath again her skin and she suddenly felt very hot around the collar.

"I don't know many girls who call their boyfriends by their last names, Hermione," he whispered into her ear.

Hermione forced a satisfied smile onto her face as he moved away and she immediately noticed that the little episode seemed to have attracted some attention, if the glares she was receiving were anything to go by. From the corner of her eye, she could see Ron staring at them with his mouth hanging open and his face red. She ignored him, feeling thoroughly satisfied.

"So," said Abraxas slowly, looking back and forth between Riddle to Hermione, with knowing grin plastered across his face, "_this_ is new."

"Indeed," Riddle said simply, his face carefully composed but for the slight smirk on his lips.

"So this is what happens when Slughorn gets involved, huh?" Alphard, looking amused. "One date together and you're hooked! My, I wonder if he could arrange something with me and Jacqueline," he added, looking hopeful.

Fortunately, Hermione was saved the trouble of having to answer by focusing on her food. Riddle seemed more than happy to handle their interest and so she left it up to him. Unfortunately, the topic soon turned to their little 'adventure'. Apparently, news spread just as fast at Hogwarts in the fourties as it did in her own time.

"What was that?" Riddle asked, looking amused while Hermione choked on a piece of chicken at a comment made by Abraxas. "Making out in the stream? No robes, you say?"

Hermione looked mortified and Ron equally so. Where on earth had _that_ detail come from?

"No," she said quickly, once she swallowed her mouthful. "No, that did _not_ happen, Abraxas. Where on earth did you hear that from?"

He shrugged, smirking, and said, "That's what's going around Hogwarts anyway."

Hermione thought she was going to die and only thing that perhaps kept her in this world was the mortified look on Ron's face. It mollified her somewhat. After that, fortunately, there was little talk about the new couple and the discussion turned to Quidditch. Dessert was barely over, however, when a pleasant distraction caught the attention of everyone in the hall.

A number of fireworks went off simultaneously from behind the teachers' table, followed by another round of fireworks, which generated spontaneous applause from everyone present, though Hermione thought the teachers seemed rather surprised. No doubt a prankster was on the loose tonight.

Riddle watch the display with much enthusiasm, which surprised Hermione. She had never thought of him as a pyrotechnics enthusiast. He slipped his hands over hers while it sat on the table and gave it a slight squeeze.

The third round of fireworks began and then, as they faded, Hermione thought she saw a dark figure suddenly appear, floating behind the flashes of light. The fireworks stopped suddenly and what Hermione saw made her stomach clench in horror.

It was Lauren. And she was petrified.

And Hermione was holding hands with her attacker.

As the hall erupted in screams and cries and people jumped up from their seats, a sudden rush of guilt swept over Hermione and she felt tears prickling in her eyes. She yanked her hand out of Riddle's as though they burned her. She looked at him and saw that he was looking at Lauren with an expression of shock. She wanted to smack him for his nerve, but instead turned to Harry, who had jumped out of his seat and was pulling Hermione away.

In the madness, they could just hear Headmaster Dippet ordering everyone to go back to their common rooms and Riddle was soon too distracted ushering first years out of the hall to have heard her.

"How did this happen?" Ron muttered angrily when he caught up with them in the crowded Entrance Hall. "We were watching the map all day!"

"Did either of you see Riddle in the Great Hall during the day?" Hermione asked, her civility extending even to Ron at that desperate moment.

"No," said Harry angrily. "I didn't see him anywhere near it. Besides, he spent a lot of time with you."

Suddenly, Hermione remembered what Minerva had told her.

"I just realized – Minerva told me she hadn't seen Lauren all day!" Hermione exclaimed. "Riddle must have gotten her really early – and we all slept in this morning! That's when he must have done it! We've been so complacent! Oh, but we're so lucky she wasn't _killed_!"

"We don't need to worry on that score, Hermione," Harry said darkly. "We already know who dies."

"That's true, but it's still so – oh!" she cried, and then added in a hushed voice, "I just remembered – it was Lauren who hexed me last night! You don't think he did it for revenge? If he knew it was her?"

Hermione's guilt suddenly doubled.

"Don't you go and blame yourself, Hermione," Ron said seriously. "He was going after her from the start. This is absolutely not your fault."

Hermione smiled at him gratefully. It seemed remarkable that only minutes ago she had been angry with him.

"How am I supposed to face him now, knowing that he's done all these things?" she muttered. "Listen," she said, as they reached the Slytherin Common Room. "I can't stand being in here tonight. I don't want to hear all the approval and I just can't face Riddle after what he did. If anyone asks, I've gone to bed, okay?"

"But it's not even seven thirty yet!" Ron said.

"Make my excuses for me. Tell them I have a headache."

And with that, she swiftly made her way through the crowded Common Room and into her dorm. She did not go to sleep, however, but took out her books, her desire to return home redoubled.

The next morning, Hermione skipped breakfast in the Great Hall, opting to eat alone in the kitchens with Harry and Ron while they poured over more thick volumes in search of information. They, too, had a renewed desire to return home.

"Come on," said Ron thickly, after stuffing a last custard tart into his mouth. "We have to get to Defence."

They hastily put away their books, thanked the over-zealous house-elves (Hermione looked at them in pity), and made their way to their DADA class, which was taught by Professor Merrythought, an enthusiastic though rather strict teacher.

When they arrived at the classroom, they found that most of the students had already arrived and that as such, most seats were taken. Riddle, however, was seated alone at the back of the classroom with three empty seats beside him. He looked at Hermione pointedly when she entered and the three had no choice but to sit next to him.

"You weren't at breakfast this morning," he stated, frowning slightly as she sat down besides him.

"No," Hermione replied vaguely. "We didn't feel like it."

"Well, don't make it a habit. It doesn't exactly help our cause. I'll be expecting you at lunch," he replied, leaving no room for argument before turning back to face the front of the class as Professor Merrythought began to talk.

"Now, class. I trust you've all been practicing the dueling spells I've been teaching you? Yes, you say? Well, we shall see," she said, looking astutely around the class. "Mr. Black! Disarm me," she instructed and a moment later, her wand flew from her hand.

"Excellent," she said as she stooped down to pick up her wand. "Now perhaps you'd like to come up to the front."

Alphard did as he was told, looking apprehensive.

"Miss Viridian," she called. "Stun him."

"What?" cried Alphard.

"Now, now, my dear boy," Professor Merrythought said, reprimanding him. "Have some backbone. Miss Viridian?"

Jacqueline gave Alphard an apologetic look before successfully Stunning him.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, Enervate him."

Abraxas did so, but only on his second try. Hermione fought to contain a smirk.

After asking a few more students to demonstrate various spells, Professor Merrythought announced that they would be practicing dueling that lesson, much to the excitement of most of the class.

"Now, everyone stand up and divide in to pairs. That's it," she called over the loud mutterings and with a flick of her wand, all the chairs and tables were stacked away against the back wall. Hermione paid little attention to that since Riddle had chosen that moment to grab her arm and throw her a mock-pleasant smile.

"Hello, _partner_," he said sardonically.

Hermione smirked at him, returning the implied challenge in his words.

"You're on," she whispered with a feisty smirk. She might be little match for him, but she took great pleasure in the opportunity to seek revenge, however petty it might be.

"If I see any cheating or irresponsible behaviour, you can prepare yourselves for a week's worth of detention! No overtly harmful spells and certainly nothing _illegal_," she said, casting a pointed look at Abraxas and Septimus, who had paired up. "Right now, face your partners!" she shouted. "Bow – yes, good. Now, wands at the ready and – you may start!"

Before Professor Merrythought had finished speaking, Riddle had already flicked his wand ever so subtly. Suddenly a thin mist appeared around them, obscuring the view of everything around them and muffling the sound.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked angrily.

"I'm ever so sorry, Hermione," he said softly, though his sincerity was betrayed by his smirk.

Shocked, Hermione raised her wand to defend herself, but Riddle was quicker.

"_Crucio_!"

* * *

**A/N** - Hope you enjoyed that! Sorry about the wait, I'll try to have the next chapter up much sooner! Oh, and by the way, don't lose hope in Tom yet. ;)


	13. The Accident

**Chapter 13**

Hermione had no time to brace herself before the spell hit her forcefully in the chest. She waited, her breath caught in her throat, but the agonizing pain she had been expecting did not come.

Astounded and fearful for her safety, she looked up at Riddle, her wand now raised defensively. She was even more baffled to see him looking at her expectantly, his eyes lit with a cold excitement.

"It worked," he said softly.

"What?" she replied, not believing her ears.

"It worked," he repeated, a greedy smile spreading slowly across his face.

"It didn't work!" she said harshly. "Are you insane? Did you see me writhing on the floor in pain? You've lost your mind! What are you doing a casting an illegal curse so _ineptly_ in the middle of a _classroom_?"

He merely raised an eyebrow at her conceitedly.

"No one will notice through the mist. Besides, why are you complaining? You didn't feel anything, nor were you hurt," he said with a falsely pleasant smile.

"Only because of your ineptitude!" she spat angrily. She could not believe he had just tried to use the Cruciatus Curse and was acting so casual about it. What surprised her even more, however, was the fact that it had not worked. She could not understand why – he'd had no trouble casting the Killing Curse. She could not see how this could be any harder.

"Do you _really_ think it was my lack of talent? I, who you witnessed successfully casting the Killing Curse?" he said mockingly. "No, Hermione. It's more complicated than that."

Hermione regarded him unsurely. She knew he was right. How else could have the curse have failed to work?

"Why didn't it work then?" she replied sharply, her curiosity caught.

"I thought you'd never ask," he said softly. "You and I, Hermione, we're different. We're special. We are _immune_ to the Cruciatus Curse. It's powerful magic. Ancient magic that's been long forgotten. Magic coming from the Founder's Necklace itself. They say the Cruciatus curse cannot be blocked. I believe it myself, too. Until now. Watch," he ordered, before, turning his wand on himself and pressing the tip to his chin. Hermione watched in horrified fascination as he said, "_Crucio!_"

Just as Riddle had predicted, nothing happened. Hermione felt exhilarated and awed by the discovery.

"How do you know this?" she asked eagerly, her anger vanishing instantly. "Did you find a book about the Necklace?"

"No, not a book. I figured it out myself," he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"How?" she asked, surprised.

"We shall discuss it later. Meet me in the last discussion room in the library, along the left hand wall at morning break. As for now…" he trailed off and with another subtle jab of his wand, the mist vanished. Before Hermione had the chance to react, he declared, "...we duel! _Expelliarmus!_"

"_Protego!_" Hermione cried, only just in time to repel the spell.

"_Stupefy!_" Riddle countered.

He missed as Hermione had ducked and from below, she cast a spell at Riddle.

"_Expelliarmus!_" she cried, but Riddle was faster and blocked her spell with ease.

"_Incarcero –_" she yelled, only to have Riddle block the spell with a flick of his wand before she even finished it.

"_Obscur –_" she tried, but it was useless.

"Excellent blocking, Mr. Riddle!" called Professor Merrythought.

The teacher's attention had startled Riddle and he looked away for a split second, just enough for Hermione to catch him off his guard.

"_Impedimenta!_" she cried and was rewarded with a direct hit that sent Riddle toppling backwards, right into Abraxas, who cushioned Riddle's fall.

Feeling elated, Hermione raised her wand to end the duel.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

But Riddle was too quick again. He rolled over and sprang to his feet, the spell hitting Abraxas instead. By now, the whole class had moved out of their way and lined up against the walls, watching their duel with delight. Hermione could hear cheering but was too focused on the duel to pay attention to what they were saying.

"_Rictusempra!_" Riddle cried as he jumped to his feet, sounding out of breath.

Hermione was hit with the tickling charm. It was as though every part of her body was under fire and she squirmed against her will.

"_P-protego!_" she gasped, blocking the spell Riddle had sent her way and immediately freeing herself from the hex as he sent another jinx flying her way. She ducked to dodge it and at the same time sent a charm at Riddle, "_Ventus!_"

A rush of wind exploded from the end of her wand, encircling Riddle, causing his robes to fly violently around him and making it hard for him to keep his balance.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Hermione cried again, taking her chance to catch Riddle offguard.

Riddle was not to be outdone, however, and managed to block the spell, infuriating Hermione.

"_Repello!_" came Riddle's muffled voice and suddenly the gush of wind came soaring towards her instead.

"_Reducto!_" she yelled and the wind was violently destroyed, causing much cries from their audience.

"_Obscuro!_" Riddle bellowed barely a second after she had muttered her own spell.

The spell hit Hermione before she could dodge it, causing a blindfold to appear across her eyes, completely obscuring her view.

"_Contego!_" she cried as she pulled the blindfold off, a large shield forming before her and blocking the charm Riddle had sent her way while she was distracted.

Riddle continued to bombard the shield with spells, but it repelled some, sending them shooting across the classroom, and destroyed others. The only problem was that it took much effort for Hermione to keep the shield up and it was quickly draining her energy.

"_Reducto! Duro! Expulso!_" Riddle shot one after the other. Behind him, a window shattered from the rebounded _Reducto_. Hermione could hear the frustration mounting in his voice.

"_Diffendo!_" he cried and the spell hit Hermione with such force that she fell backwards onto the floor, her shield dropping.

A spilt second later, she felt her wand forced out of her hand. However, she paid little attention to that because being sprawled on the ground, Hermione saw what few others did. Riddle's deflected spell had flown upwards and hit the bulky, metal chandelier, which was directly above her. Hermione watched as the spell severed the thick chain from which the chandelier hang and as though in slow motion, it started to fall down towards her at an astonishing speed. She could only give out a strangled cry and jerk her hands upwards to cover her face as the chandelier landed on her with a sickening crash, crushing her, breaking her bones, and tearing through her flesh. The last thing she heard before the world went black was the terrified screams of her classmates.

* * *

Harry starred in horror as the chandelier fell. Even as he raised his wand, he knew he would not be fast enough. Then, a sharp cry came from the other side of the room.

"_Evanseco!_" Riddle shouted, jumping forward, but he missed, the spell just passing over the massive chandelier as it sped towards the floor. Towards Hermione. Then, with a resounding crash that shook the very floor of the castle, it landed on her, crushing her. It was so large that it covered her whole body, except her head and arms which were sticking out from the top.

An agonizing scream escaped Harry's lips as he watched Hermione's eyes widened, a look of excruciating pain on her face, and then close, as she slipped away to unconsciousness.

"Hermione!" he cried, running towards her, but Professor Merrythought pushed him away.

"Don't go near her!" she cried. "It's not safe. Miss Viridian – get the nurse! Use the fireplace at the back of the room. Malfoy – the Headmaster! Quick!"

She herself knelt down beside Hermione's head and vanished away the chandelier. Harry felt sick at the sight of her mangled body and terror clenched at his stomach. He could see bones poking though her flesh and already a large pool of blood was forming around her. Her face was deathly pale.

The Professor started muttering spell after spell. Harry hardly recognized any of them, but knew enough to realize they were healing charms. She was keeping Hermione alive.

Harry could hardly bear to look and turned away. It was only then that he noticed anyone else. Some of the girls were sobbing and Alphard was looking grim, his hands trembling. Ron was standing next to Harry, his eyes wide, his skin pale, and a look of hopeless terror on his face. But it was Riddle who caught his eye. Riddle, the one who caused it to happen.

He was staring at Hermione in shock. Harry had never seen him express so much emotion. His wand was still raised and his mouth hung slightly open. His already pale skin was now a ghostly white.

_Probably worried he'd lose his badge or get expelled_, Harry thought, his anger at the young Dark Lord rising swiftly. Suddenly, he realized that Ron was approaching Riddle – fast. And before Harry could stop him, Ron was upon him and had punched Riddle square in the face.

Riddle stumbled backwards, his hands flying to his face as he stared at Ron with an expression of cold, hard anger that made Harry's insides shiver. Ron, apparently oblivious to this, had raised his hand again, ready to strike for a second time, but this time Harry grabbed it before he could.

"Ron, stop it!" he shouted. "This isn't going to help Hermione! It won't bring her back."

Ron turned to him, his teary eyes blazing madly, though Harry only saw his hopelessness.

"He's k-killed her, Harry!" Ron stammered. "He's _killed_ her!"

"She's not dead, you idiot," Riddle spat at him harshly.

Ron's response, which was characterized by a further raising of his fist, was fortunately cut short by the sudden arrival of the matron. Harry cried out in hope, but his face paled as he saw the look of horror on her face. She hurriedly knelt down beside Hermione opposite Professor Merrythought and opened a large box that Harry recognized as the Wizarding equivalent of the sort of first-aid kit.

"Galatea, here – blood replenishing potion. Give it to her through her arm," the matron said, handing a small vial to Professor Merrythought.

Harry watched as the two witches set to work on the limp body of his best friend. It had not escaped his attention that her skin was deathly pale or that her chest was barely rising at all as she breathed.

A moment later, the Headmaster arrived through the fireplace with Professor Slughorn arriving just after him. Headmaster Dippet appeared appalled at the sight of Hermione's mangled body.

"Merlin's Beard!" he cried feebily, looking aghast. "Horace – quick! Send for aid from St Mungo's! She won't stand a chance without more help!"

Ron let out a strangled cry at that admission, which drew Dippet's attention to the students who remained in the classroom.

"Come now, everyone out, please," he said, not unkindly. "Come, best leave these women to their work in peace."

Most of the students started to make their way out of the classroom, but Harry and Ron stood their ground, not daring to leave their friend. Riddle, too, to Harry's surprise, stood his ground. He was standing just behind Professor Merrythought. His expression was grim, but his eyes were staring in wonder. Harry followed his gaze and immediately saw what had caught Riddle's attention – the necklace. It had fallen out from behind Hermione's robes and lay on the floor, half hidden by her hair. Nevertheless, there was no mistaking the fact that there was a dull glow permeating from each one of the gems. Harry, too, stared in wonder, hoping that the Necklace was using its power to somehow help Hermione.

Dippet, who had apparently misinterpreted Riddle's reluctance to leave, placed a caring hand on his shoulder.

"There, there, Mr. Riddle," he said delicately. "She'll be fine. There's no need to fret. Come on then. Off you go. That's a good lad."

Riddle looked at Dippet blankly, before nodding and heading swiftly to the door. After throwing one last, worried look at Hermione, Harry followed, dragging legs forward like lead.

_You won't die in 1943, Hermione_, he thought as he blinked back tears._ You won't_.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was confused.

He sat in his office, interviewing the young Tom Riddle, not know what to make of him. Not a day had passed since he had last spoken to Tom in his office about his misadventures with Miss Jean, his new girlfriend, and yet there he sat again, bold as brace, the sole suspect in the terrible tragedy that had befallen his girlfriend. Not a single emotion was to be read on this face.

Albus had been charged with the duty of determining what had happened in that ill-fated Defense Against the Dark Arts class. By all accounts, it seemed to have been an accident. And if he had been dealing with anyone else, he would have agreed.

But it was Tom Riddle who sat before him and so the nagging doubt in the back of his mind would not relent its grasp.

Because Tom Riddle was no ordinary boy. He was different. He was special. And much as Albus hated to admit it, the boy knew it. He knew of no other children who had demonstrated such control over their powers from such a young age. He knew no other Parseltongue. He knew no other direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin. He knew no other who could be the _Heir _of Slytherin.

_No, no, this isn't the time for such thoughts_, Albus thought, chastising himself.

"And you say she conjured a shield? A physical shield?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes seeming to penetrate the deeps of Tom's emotionless brown ones.

"Yes, Professor. As I _already_ said, it was the Contego Sheild charm," Tom said, betraying only the slightest trace of impatience.

"And you did know that no simple charm would have broken through the shield, yes?"

"Of course I knew, Professor" he said quietly. "I cast the spells not to break the shield, but to weaken it by weakening her."

"But you did not notice that you're spells were rebounding?"

"No, Sir. I was too focused on the duel."

Albus considered that statement for a while. From what the numerous witnesses had told him, Miss Jean had put up a strong defense against Tom. He immediately recognized that this would have been a welcome challenge to Tom. The Slytherin, being perhaps the most talented student to pass through the walls of Hogwarts for many years, was not used to being confronted with such a talented opponent. Nor would his ego allow it.

However, there was one serious flaw with that theory. Miss Hermione Jean had never proven herself as being a talented student. She was merely average according to most of her teachers and Albus had to agree. Only her Muggle Studies teacher found her achievements to be higher than average. And yet she had received Outstandings for all her OWL's – except DADA. There was clearly more to the young witch than what met the eyes.

Alas, Albus Dumbledore was very confused.

"Very well, Tom," Dumbledore sighed. "It would seem that this occurrence was nothing more than a tragic accident. You may leave. Dinner will be starting soon."

Tom stood up and nodded courteously to the Professor before taking his leave. However, he turned around once he had reached the door.

"Professor?" he asked unsurely. "How is Hermione? Headmaster Dippet would only say that they are working on her."

Tom was remarkably composed as he asked the question, though his eyebrows were drawn together slightly in concern. It was the first real emotion he shown before Albus that evening.

Albus smiled grimly and said, "Her condition has stabilized, much sooner than expected and much to the surprise of those caring for her. The worst of it has passed, Tom, but she has yet to regain consciousness. I expect you should be able to see her later this evening. Tell the nurse you have my permission."

Riddle nodded and smiled. It was not the kind of smile Albus had expected. It was not a smile of relief or joy. It was more a knowing smile. He knew the boy was a good actor and that he could show genuine concern at times, but for the life of him, Albus could not know at that moment which it was.

Once Tom had left, Albus made his way to the Hospital Wing for an update on the girl's condition. On his arrival, he was pleased to see that the St Mungo's staff had left. Although their work was much appreciated, they seemed to him like an ominously cloud that hanged overhead, bringing much needed water, yet darkening a bright day.

"What's the latest report, Gladys?" Albus asked the matron, Madame Gladys, who was tidying up the bedside table of her still unconscious patient.

"Oh, Albus!" she exclaimed, sighing. "Surely, it must be some sort of miracle! If she continues to heal at this rate, she's expected to have full recovery in no time!"

Albus stared at the Matron with polite surprise.

"Surely not? I was informed of widespread internal injury. Was not the Chandelier made of a metal that caused irreversible damage?"

"Indeed, it was!" Gladys replied earnestly, "but her organs are healing as we speak. Her bones are already perfectly mended and the outer scars faded so well that they can barely be seen. I'm sure you know, Professor, that the magic only aids the healing. It is really the patient's body that does the work. The magic just helps it along, causing the body to do things that it does not normally do – like grow new bones, you see. When a patient is as hurt as this young lass was, you'd expect the healing to be a long and tiresome process, taking its toll on the person. But not so, Professor. Not now. She's healing as though she had the strength of ten men and no one is any the wiser why."

Albus was certainly intrigued – he always did love a challenge.

"How very curious. Have you tested for any protective charms that may have been cast on her person? Any health enhancement charms? Traces of steroidal potions?"

Gladys shook her head and said, "Impossible, Albus. She's much too weak. We didn't want to risk jeopardizing her health by searching for any such charms."

"Indeed. Was she in possession of anything suspicious?" he asked.

"Nothing, except this necklace here, you see. It really did get in our way while we worked, but no one could take it off," she said, before reaching forward and carefully tugging on a gold chain around Miss Jean's neck, pulling the necklace out from under the bedsheets.

Albus inhaled sharply.

He instantly recognized the Founder's Necklace.

He leaned forward, examining the Necklace closer, taking it into his own hands. He could feel its magical aura and stared at it in awe. A thousand questions raced through his mind.

_How did she find the Founder's Necklace? How did she manage to wear it? Was the necklace presently engaged in saving her life? _

He suddenly thought he understood why Riddle had taken an interest in the girl.

"Curious," he said, tucking the necklace back under the girl's covers and stepping back casually. "How curious. It wouldn't come off, you say?"

"No, and goodness knows we tried our best!" Gladys said, shaking her head. "The poor girl. You don't think you'd be able to get it off, would you, Albus?"

"Even if I did, I wouldn't, not without the young lady's permission. There must be a reason why she wouldn't want it removed."

"Oh, I suppose so, but still, it is rather bothersome," Gladys sighed.

Dumbledore looked at Hermione sadly, but with a newfound curiosity and comfort. The powers of the Founder's Necklace were legend.

"When do you expect her to wake?" he asked.

"To be honest, we don't know. It could be a long time. She lost a large amount of blood. I wouldn't expect her to wake in less than a few days' time, though."

"Please inform me as soon as she wakes, Gladys. Oh, and do keep an eye for me on any visitors she may have, will you?" he requested.

_Just in case._

_

* * *

_

**A/N** - Hope you enjoyed that little twist! And see, no cliffhangers! reviews welcome. _  
_


	14. The Potion

**Chapter 14**

When Hermione awoke, she found that she was no longer lying on the classroom floor, but was in a comfortable bed in the Hospital Wing. She lay there for a moment, confused, until she remembered what had happened. She felt bile rising to her mouth at the memory, but she forced it back down and calmed herself by inhaling and exhaling deeply. A dull sort of pain permeated throughout her whole body.

_Don't panic; you're alive. That's a good sign. _

Suddenly, she noticed the Hogwarts matron on the other side of the Hospital Wing, but Hermione was too weak to call out to her. Seeing an empty glass cup on her bedside table, she tried to lift up an arm, but noticed that it felt like it was made of lead. Mustering all the strength she had, she clumsily knock the cup onto the floor, where it smashed loudly into the ground, breaking. Hermione's arm collapsed onto the table; she was too weak to move it back to her side.

The matron gave a loud start and spun around, clasping her chest when she saw that Hermione was awake.

"Great Godric! You're awake!" she cried, dropping what she was doing and rushing towards her. Hermione had yet to meet the matron of this time, though she knew that the school nurse was referred to as Madame Gladys. The Mediwitch was slightly older than Madame Pomfrey had been, perhaps in her mid-sixties, though Hermione recognized the same kind devotion to her patients and practice in her; the moment Madame Gladys arrived at her bedside, she bustling busily around her.

"Try not to move now, dear. That's right," the matron said kindly. "You've had a nasty little accident. You need to conserve your energy."

The matron went away to her stores and returned with a potion, which Hermione drank without questioning. She instantly found herself falling asleep.

When Hermione awoke again the first thing she noticed was that it was nighttime and that she was feeling significantly better. She felt stronger and her muscles were no longer aching. Before she could contemplate the thought any further, a voice startled her and she pretended to be asleep.

"Still here, Mr. Riddle?"

She instantly recognized the kind voice of Madame Gladys.

"Yes, Madame," Riddle replied and Hermione realized that he was seated on her left. He had not noticed her waking since her face was directed to the right.

"Oh, you're such a dear," Gladys said fondly. "She's a lucky girl to have you. But you've been here for almost two hours now and isn't it past curfew? I've turned a blind eye, but I don't think I can allow you to stay much longer."

_Two hours_? Hermione thought, bewildered, but she soon realized that Riddle had a part to play – that of a concerned boyfriend. It did not comfort her, however. She would have much rather preferred to find Harry and Ron waiting for her.

"Thank you, Madame," Riddle said softly and Hermione imagined that he would have summoned a blush to his cheeks, "but I am a prefect, so I can stay out of my common room for another hour."

"Oh, that's right, that's right. Oh, dear. Hadn't you better go off and do some study, though? I'll let you know as soon as she wakes."

"You're very kind, Madame. However, I don't feel right waiting in my common room, knowing that it was my renegade spell that caused the damage," he muttered, sounding guilty.

Hermione almost snorted in disbelief.

"Oh, alright then," Gladys whispered caringly, "but not a minute longer than half an hour!"

Riddle thanked her profusely. Hermione then heard her footsteps making their way across the Hospital Wing before she heard the sound of a door closing. Riddle chuckled softly.

"So, I guess you think that was pretty smart, huh?" she whispered, before turning to face Riddle. She regretted it almost immediately, for a sharp pain stabbed at her stomach, almost making her vomit and causing her to miss Riddle's expression of shock.

"You're awake!" he declared in a whisper, before a smile of relief spread across his face. "How long have you been awake?"

"Oww," she groaned, clutching her stomach in pain. "I'm fine, Riddle. Thanks for asking."

"No you're not. Not yet, anyway, but you will be," Riddle said confidently.

"What makes you so sure?" she asked, realizing she knew nothing about her own condition.

"By all accounts, you really shouldn't be awake right now. You should still be in a coma, possibly even dead," he said seriously. "You should probably even be fighting for your life. But you're not. Gladys and the Healers from St Mungo's are pretty baffled by it. You've healed so much faster than they had expected and the wounds they had thought would be permanent scars are practically invisible now. They haven't got a clue why, but I do," he added with a satisfied smile.

Hermione was so horrified at hearing that she had almost died that she ignored Riddle's confession.

"What – what happened? How extensive was the damage?" she stuttered. "How long was I in a coma?"

"It was bad. Wesley thought you'd died at first. Most of us didn't think you'd make it. You had broken bones and many ruptured organs, and half your blood was spilt on the classroom floor. Apparently the chandelier was laced with a dangerous substance that was in popular use during Medieval times – according to Professor Beery anyway. They expected it to cause permanent damage when it got into your system, but like I said: you're healing up nicely and much better than expected. You woke up on your own after two days."

"Two whole days?" she exclaimed, aghast. She paused before adding with a frown, "And they don't know why I'm healing so well? But you think you know? How could _you_ possibly – oh!" she cried, her eyes widening with realization. "Not – not the Founders' Necklace?"

Her hands flew up to her necklace and she clasped it tightly between her fingers, as though it was her lifeline.

"Exactly," Riddle said, an excited glint flashing in his eyes. "Imagine my surprise when I saw the four jewels on your necklace glowing as you lay there, bleeding to death. Two thoughts came to my mind: either you were dying and the necklace was preparing to release the clasp or the it was responding to the accident in some way – keeping you alive, helping you heal. After some tests on my own necklace, I soon realized it was the latter. The four founders had enchanted the necklace so that it carried healing properties. It was _helping_ you. It probably saved you from certain deaths."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"But – but that's very amazing magic!" she whispered, awed. "There are advanced charms one can cast on themselves in case of emergencies, but to cast it on an object and to have it extended to the wearer? It's almost unheard of!"

"I know," Riddle bragged, now fingering his own necklace fondly.

As she watched his caress the necklace with his long fingers, a thought came suddenly to mind.

"But how did _you_ discover this?" she asked, confused and intrigued at the same time. "How did you learn that the necklace carried these charms? And that it defended against the Cruciatus curse, too?"

"This isn't the place to discuss it," Riddle said, his eyes wandering over to the matron's office, "nor the time. You'll need your strength for when I show you. Don't look so surprised – I will show you, though on _my_ terms. I will tell you nothing unless you agree to perform a magically sealed vow."

Hermione frowned skeptically. She did not like the sound of his terms, but then she supposed she should be grateful he was willing to show her at all. She certainly had not expected it. That he had even confided much of his knowledge in her was a miracle in itself. She suspected that he must have some sort of use for her and that was the only reason why he was willing to tell.

"What kind of vow?" she asked suspiciously.

"I think a Felix Vow of the Fifth Degree would be sufficient," he stated firmly, his eyes fixed on hers, looking for any sign of recognition.

"A Felix Vow of the _Fifth_ Degree?" Hermione gasped, looking thoroughly scandalized. "Are you _insane_? Do you realize what that means for the one who breaks it?"

Riddle raised an eyebrow haughtily and drawled, "Of course _I_ know it means. Though that would not be a problem as long as you don't plan to break the oath, will it, Hermione?" His eyes narrowed coldly.

"I haven't taken an oath yet, Riddle, nor have I agreed to take any," she said coolly. "Tell me what vows you would have me take."

"Very well," Riddle said, sitting up straighter. "Firstly, and most importantly, any knowledge I share with you will not be used against me in any way, shape, or form, and that includes using it to hinder my plans or assist anyone who might try to harm me. Secondly, you will share the knowledge with no one and that _includes_ Evans and Wesley," he said sharply. "Thirdly, and perhaps of equal importance as the first vow, is that you will share with me _everything_ you already know about the necklace and anything and everything you will _come_ to know."

Hermione gaped at him, suddenly understanding why he wanted to share the information with her. He was tempting her with an irresistible offer so that he might learn something to _his _advantage. Naturally, he had only his own interests in mind. Though the offer was indeed extremely tempting, how could she possible agree to _any_ of those vows? She could never keep something so important from Harry and Ron, nor could she ever forgive herself if any information she gave to Riddle was used for evil purposes – to harm, to _kill_. All of a sudden, she was struck with a thought.

_Of course! How did I not remember sooner?_

"Okay, Riddle," she said, forcing herself to look grim. "I think I can agree with those terms, but I want more time to think about it, okay?"

Riddle smirked and said smoothly, "I thought you'd see things my way. You shall have a while to think about it – you're much too weak to risk casting the spell now. We shall discuss this further at another time. I think Gladys is coming."

Hermione turned and saw that the door to the nurse's office had opened. A moment later, she saw the nurse step out into the Hospital Wing.

"Okay, young man, I think I've given you – oh!" she cried in surprise at seeing Hermione awake. She looked at Riddle accusingly. "You should have called me as soon as she woke up! How long has she been awake?"

"Just a few minutes, Madame," Riddle said quietly. "I was going to call you in a moment, but I see you were already on your way. I knew you didn't have it in you to leave your patients for long." He was obviously trying to flatter his way out of trouble.

"Oh, go on, then," Gladys said, smiling bashfully. "Off to your dorm. You can come back in the morning if you want. For now, I have a number of tests to perform on this young lady."

"Of course," Riddle said, standing up to take his leave. "I'll see you in the morning, Hermione dear."

And then to her surprise, he conjured a single red rose and laid it on her bedside table before taking her hand and his brushing his lips across it in a soft kiss. Hermione felt her skin burning while Gladys watched him leave dotingly.

"Oh, he's such a good boy," she said, before turning her attentions to Hermione. "Now, how are you feeling, dear?"

"Terrible," she said truthfully. By the time the nurse was done with her, she had been forced to drink a total of seven different potions, each one worse than the last. Finally, she was given another sleeping potion for the night.

When Hermione awoke, she found that it was morning. As she had expected, Gladys had a fresh batch rather horrid-looking potions. She accepted them silently, though with a grimace, upset that Harry and Ron were not there when she woke up. Her disappointment did not last long, however, because to her delight, Harry and Ron arrived shortly after she finished her breakfast.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed when he saw her fully awake and seated in her bed, looking perfectly healthy, if a little pale. "I can't believe it. You've had us so worried!"

Hermione smiled at him gratefully and at Harry, who was looking at her with much relief.

"It's so good to finally see you awake, Hermione," Harry said seriously. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, but I guess that's the pain-killing potion speaking," she admitted. "I've been sleeping most of the time, though."

"We know," Harry said ruefully. "We've been stopping by at least ten times a day to see if you'd waken up, but at first, you were in the coma. Then, you were in an induced sleep. The nurse wasn't very happy with us; she kept telling us to go away and that you _needed rest_, but she was content to let Riddle stay," he added with scowl.

"That git," Ron muttered mutinously, massaging his knuckles.

"Ron," Hermione said warningly, "I hope you haven't been causing trouble."

Ron looked affronted, before insisting, "I wasn't causing trouble. _He_ was causing trouble. He's the one who almost killed you!"

"It was an _accident_, Ron," she said, exasperated. "Please tell you haven't done something stupid."

Ron did not reply, though his expression was tense. Hermione looked at Harry, who smiled sheepishly before admitting, "Ron punched Riddle in the face after you got injured."

"Ron! You didn't! Oh, he must have been so angry! He'll want revenge for this! Has he said anything about it – or _done_ something?" she asked worriedly.

"No," Ron said, "but can't look at me without giving me an ice cold glare."

"We named it the glare of death," Harry added. "If looks could kill… Well, if he didn't hate Ron before, he certainly does now."

"Good!" Ron said emphatically. "I don't want that evil murderous git to like me."

"He's not a murderer _yet_ and keep your voice down, for Merlin's sake!" Hermione said.

"Besides, Ron, he did try to save Hermione," Harry said pointedly.

"He did?" Hermione asked. No one had told her that detail.

"Yeah – didn't you hear him? He cast a Vanishing charm, but it missed. It went just over the chandelier instead. It was moving too fast, I guess."

"He was only trying to save his own skin," Ron growled. "He'd have known he'd be expelled or sent to Azkaban or something. That stupid attempt is probably the only reason why he's still here. He didn't even get detention! I'd bet Harry's Firebolt that he missed on purpose."

Despite Ron's rant, Hermione felt her spirits lifted at the thought that Riddle had tried to save her yet again. However, she had more important matters to discuss and so did not dwell on the thought.

"Anyway, listen. I've got something important to tell you…"

She explained everything that had happened between her and Riddle - about the necklace glowing, about Riddle's theory, about her health, and about his offer. She left out the part about the Cruciatus Curse, however. She knew they would not take that too well.

"I saw it, too," Harry said thoughtfully when she had finished. "I saw Riddle looking at it and followed his gaze. The jewels were glowing. It was so strange. Of course I didn't know what it meant, so I tried to research it, but I couldn't find anything. What about these Vows? You couldn't possibly take them, could you? You might as well be inducted into the Death Eaters if you did."

"What is this fifth Felix vow, anyway?" Ron asked, frowning suspiciously. "I've never heard of it."

"Felix Vow of the Fifth Degree," she corrected him. "It's a series of vows similar to the Unbreakable Vow, only without the dying factor and technically, you _can_ break it."

"And what happens if you break the vow?" Harry asked curiously.

"It depends on the degree of the vow. A Felix Vow of the First Degree would give you a really bad headache that nothing can cure. It'd go away in about a day or two, though. You'd also have a little bit of bad luck for the next few days. The higher the degree, the worse the pain and the worse the bad luck."

"So how bad would a fifth degree vow be?" Ron asked, looking appalled.

"The pain is said to rival a powerful Cruciatus Curse," Hermione said, grimacing. "It lasts for as long as the person has the intention to break the vow. The bad luck, on the other hand, lasts for a few weeks and is really, really bad. It's like the opposite of a mouthful of Felix Felicis."

"Blimey," Ron said slowly, "and he expects you to accept this?"

"But you obviously can't," Harry said, frowning.

"Harry, you wouldn't happen to still have the Half-Blood Prince's Potions book lying around, would you?" Hermione asked.

"Er, yeah, I left it in the Room of Requirement, but you said I shouldn't use it here, remember?"

"Excellent," she said, smiling broadly. "Do you think you could go have a look at it for me?"

"Of course," Harry said, looking taken aback, "but –"

"There was a potion in there that allows a person to interfere with the Vow made. You need to drink it before you make the Vow and any vow made can be knocked down a few degrees."

"But wouldn't Riddle know about this potion?" Harry asked. "Won't he expect it?"

"No," she smiled slyly. "In this time, the potion could only knock it back by one degree. He'd probably be expecting that. The potion in your textbook, Harry, would let me knock it back to a First degree. He'll never have heard of it before."

"And this First degree, it's only a headache?" Harry asked, looking excited.

"Exactly. A pretty bad headache and some bad luck – but only minor things, like hitting your toe or tearing your best jumper," she said, beaming.

"And, I mean, you're willing to do this? If you don't want to, I wouldn't want to push you into this. It's just that it could be very helpful for us…" Harry said quickly.

"Harry, don't be silly," Hermione reassured him. "Of course I'm going to do it, but I'll need you two to make the potion for me. I'm sure you'll do fine with the Prince's instructions. If I remember correctly, it should only take a few hours to brew. There might be some ingredients which are only found in Professor Slughorn's private inventory… do you think you could break in?"

Ron finally smiled and said, "Hermione, if you broke into _Snape's_ inventory when you were only in second year, I'm sure Harry and I can manage."

* * *

**A/N **- I hope you enjoyed that! I'd like to thank my two awesome betas (Hajnalmadar and Serpent In Red). Reviews welcome! :)


	15. The Vow

**Chapter 15**

Albus Dumbledore strolled distractedly around the castle. Physically, he was on the third floor, but his thoughts were in the hospital wing, with Hermione Jean. He was pondering what to do with that particular situation, disappointed by his lack of leads, when a sound caught his attention. It sounded very much like a fist being slammed powerfully on a table and it was coming from the unused classroom on his right. However, the voices that followed were muffled and Albus realized it was by magically means.

Normally, he would have walked on, but the classroom in question was off-limits to students, so he cancelled the magic with some magic of his own and immediately the words of the conversation became clear to him.

"No, you listen to _me_, Abraxas."

Dumbledore started, recognizing the angry voice as that of Tom Riddle's. His intention had been to walk into the unused classroom from which the voice emanated and tell the students off, but the next line caught his attention.

"I will not tolerate this kind of behavior," Tom said, his voice rich with authority. It was the kind of tone Tom had used when Dumbledore had first visited him at the orphanage. He had very rarely heard it since then. Tom had no doubt learned that it was a tone that would not get him very far at Hogwarts, especially not with the teachers, who he was so apt at charming.

"But –" Abraxas cut in, sounding anxious.

"Quiet," Tom said coldly. "I don't want to hear that you've been openly bragging about the Chamber of Secrets. Do you understand? I will be _very_ angry if I hear that you've been discussing who you think the next victim will be again anywhere outside of the Slytherin common room. Are you _trying_ to make us look guilty?"

"No, Tom, of course not, but you know we don't know who the Heir of Slytherin is. So why would it matter if –" Abaraxas said, trying to reason with Tom in a way that Albus knew would be futile.

"Fool. _We_ know that we don't know who the Heir is, but everyone else can't be sure of that. Appearances are _everything_. You won't get far if you continue on these lines. Make sure you tell that to the fifth years as well, especially Dolohov and Mulciber. They've been worse than you. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Tom," Abraxas replied, sounding mildly resentful, though Albus knew that he respected Tom too much to defy his orders.

Tom's words, however, gave Albus something to think about. If he was indeed the Heir of Slytherin, then he was keeping it even from his most devoted "friends". It made sense, of course. Tom was always independent and lacking in trust. It would be most unlike him to confide such an important piece of information in anyone. The risks were too great and he knew it.

_Assuming he is the Heir, of course._

"Has your _girlfriend_ woken up yet?" Abraxas asked, apparently eager to change the topic. Albus could hear the sneer in his voice.

"Yes. She woke up yesterday. I spoke to her last night," Tom said stiffly. Albus was intrigued by the warning in his tone, but either Abraxas missed it or felt confident – or stupid – enough to continue.

"Why do you –"

"Do not question my involvement with the girl, Abraxas," Tom snapped. "I told you she is of use to me."

"But what could _she_ possible know or have that _you_ can't get yourself?"

"There are some things that books and connections can't get you, Abraxas," Tom said quietly. "The girl is of use to me."

"What about that escapade at the creek? You still haven't said…"

"You'd be surprised how beneficial that was, Abraxas. Maybe you'll find out one day," he replied, sounding somewhat amused.

"But people are talking. Girls, mostly. Andrea was absolutely raging…"

"Let them talk. Their thoughts are worthless, as far as they think it was all making out anyway, but keep an eye on Evans and Wesley for me," Tom added darkly. "Especially Wesley. He's causing too much trouble."

"Should I stay friendly with them?"

"Of course. How else can you stay close to them?"

"I don't think I _am_ close to them," Abraxas said bitterly. "There's a wall of sorts, they won't let anyone close to them. They're so _weird_ that way. They seem a little friendly with Alphard though. I'll do my best."

"Good. Use Alphard if you have to. Don't breathe a word about this to anyone. As far as everyone else is concerned, my relationship with Hermione is strictly _romantic_," Tom said mockingly. "Come on, let's go."

Albus disappeared around a corner before the two boys could make their leave, his mind buzzing with the new information and questions. One thing was certain, however.

A trip to Godric's Hollow was in order.

* * *

Harry and Ron were true to their word. They came back to visit Hermione during lunchtime and informed her that they had already managed to secure all the ingredients needed, though not without some trouble. They had only just managed to get the Invisibility Cloak back on when Slughorn, who had heard voices, came bursting into his inventory. Harry had narrowly secured their escape by pretending to be the Bloody Baron and demanded some time alone with an unnamed female Hogwarts ghost. That had sent a rather flustered Slughorn scampering in the opposite direction.

They told her they had planned to start the potion before Quidditch practice and finish it off afterwards. Indeed, later that night, they snuck in to the hospital wing and informed Hermione that the potion was ready and hidden within the Room of Requirement.

It turned out that it had been unnecessary for them to hurry, since it was a long time before Hermione was allowed to leave the hospital wing. At least, it seemed very long for her, but for the matron it was astonishingly quick. Hermione's accident had been on Monday and she was walking out of the hospital wing feeling perfectly healthy again by Sunday morning. Madame Gladys had insisted that it was impossible and that she should stay for a while longer, and if it weren't for Professor Dumbledore joining her cause, the matron probably would have had her way. However, Professor Dumbledore seemed to believe Hermione when she said she was fine and – inexplicably – had helped her secure her release. As much as she was grateful for the Transfiguration professor's help, it slightly unnerved her. There seemed to be some kind of ulterior motive behind his actions. Ron did not think there was anything to worry about, however, especially since Dumbledore had been kind enough to cancel her detention. He did, nevertheless, rue the fact that Riddle had been pardoned as well.

Riddle had visited her often during her time in the hospital wing in order to keep up his pretenses. Part of her wanted to end the charade and tell him to leave her alone, but she knew it was a bad idea. It would probably make him furious and wound his pride, and an offended Riddle was not really something she wanted to deal with. More importantly, an angry Riddle might be less inclined to inform her about how he had discovered the enchatements on the necklace. It was a risk that she did not want to take.

However, it was getting harder and harder for her to play her part. According to Harry and Ron, Andrea was furious that Riddle kept disappearing to the hospital wing and she was not the only one. It was perhaps the one of the reasons why Hermione dreaded leaving the hospital wing. She doubted her dormitory would be too safe while she was sharing it with Andrea and Lucretia. She knew Lucretia was the one she really had to worry about. Andrea's jealousy might be more obvious, but she was predictable and not very talented. Lucretia, on the other hand, was likely to engage in a more subtle plan for revenge.

Hermione confessed her worries to Riddle during his visit one evening.

"You know, Riddle," she said, frowning, "I'm really going to have to pay for pretending to be your girlfriend."

"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Why is that?

"In case you didn't notice, your little fanclub doesn't seem to be too happy with the supposed fact that I'm your girlfriend. They're _jealous_."

"And? Does that bother you?" he asked quietly, with a faint smirk.

"Yes, actually. It does. I don't exactly look forward to having to constantly watch my back," she said sharply.

Riddle shrugged, though he looked amused.

"There really isn't much I can do about that," he said, still smirking. "I can't help it that I'm desirable. Though do try to keep your guard up and not embarrass me. It won't look so great if I'm dating a girl who can't even defend herself."

Needless to say, _that_ visit did not last very long. However, Hermione had to admit that the visits overall were not too unbearable. Mostly, they sat in silence, both studying if there was no one there, and they would talk quietly if anyone was watching. Riddle refused to speak another word about the necklace, in case anyone was listening. The visits had also given Hermione an appreciation of how good Riddle was at acting, though it infuriated her to see how tightly he had the matron wrapped around his finger. Her respect for Professor Dumbledore had increased dramatically – he was the only teacher who ever truly saw past Riddle's façade.

And so when Sunday morning arrived, Hermione met it with both relief and worry – relief to be out of the confines of those boring walls and worry about any plots of revenge that awaited her. It did not help much that Riddle had insisted she arrive at the Great Hall for breakfast with her hand in his. Nor did it help that Madame Gladys had insisted on a few extra tests on Sunday morning, causing them to be late for breakfast. Hermione could not help but notice the many stares – and glares – she was receiving for having her hands nestled in Riddle's.

"Smile, _dear_," Riddle said softly, under his breath as they passed by the Ravenclaw table.

"It isn't exactly easy to smile when everywhere I look, I see a face glaring at me," she muttered, but she smiled a sweet, fake smile nonetheless.

Riddle looked rather composed and indifferent himself. Not sparing a glance for anyone else, his eyes were fixed casually on the Slytherin table. Hermione found herself grudgingly admiring his confidence.

At the Slytherin table, the glares were even worse. However, Hermione was extremely pleased to see that Riddle was leading her right to the end of the Slytherin table – very far away from either Andrea or Lucretia – where all the sixth year boys were seated, including Harry and Ron. Needless to say, they had not been too pleased with letting Riddle accompany her to breakfast, but their protests had been futile.

Hermione sat down next to Riddle, opposite Harry and Ron, who were seated next to Alphard. Abraxas and Septimus were seated to the right of Riddle.

"Hermione!" Alphard said, a wide grin on his face as she sat down. "Excellent to see you so alive and kicking! I tried visiting you a few times, you know, but you were always sleeping!"

Hermione could not help but smile.

"Thank you, Alphard, and you can thank Madame Gladys for that. I think she took to spiking my lunch with sleeping potion a few times."

"Yeah, but you were always awake when Tom dropped by, weren't you?" Abraxas said, winking at her.

Hermione blushed at the implications in his words and looked away instead of answering. Her attention was caught by a girl seated beside Ron who certainly did not belong at the Slytherin table. Hermione blinked blankly, before remembering who she was. Scarlett Platt. Ron's girlfriend.

_Oh._

Scarlett had long, wavy brown hair, bright brown eyes, and a friendly, but pretty face.

"Hi, Hermione," she said, smiling politely. "I don't think we've had a chance to meet. I'm Scarlett, Ron's girlfriend."

As she said that, she gave Ron a glowing look.

Hermione found that the only emotions that surfaced within her were curiosity and a polite kind of fascination. She had a strong feeling that anger and jealousy about Ron's love life were things of the past and that thought unexpectedly gave her immense relief.

"Hello, Scarlett. It's nice to meet you," she replied, in the same polite tone.

She saw Ron visibly relaxing – no doubt he had been worried about an outburst of some kind – while Scarlett, too, seemed to relax at Hermione's acceptance.

"I've been wanting to meet you for a while, of course. Any friend of Ron's is a friend of mine!" she said enthusiastically. "But of course I couldn't, what with you being in the hospital wing and all. I was very sorry to hear about that. You should have seen poor Ron. He was beside himself with distress."

She patted Ron's shoulder sympathetically and the young man grinned at Hermione sheepishly.

Hermione, who was not really sure what to say, simply said, "Er, thank you."

Before Scarlett could continue talking, her eyes were caught by a Gryffindor girl waving her over from the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Oh, look Ron!" Scarlett cried. "Bethany's calling us! Come on, let's go!"

"Er, but I haven't finished breakfast yet," Ron said, looking startled.

"Ron!" Scarlett, who was already standing up, pouted. "You _promised_!"

"Oh, alright," he sighed, before standing up while looking longingly at his breakfast. He said goodbye quickly before being dragged off.

Hermione looked at Harry, her eyebrows raised.

"I thought you said she wasn't like Lavendar?" she said skeptically.

"Er, she isn't, really. I mean, well, not when you get to spend more time with her, anyway," Harry said, grinning sheepishly.

"Where are they going?"

"Practicing," Alphard said, looking at Ron's retreating figure with as smirk on his face. "At least that's what he told me earlier. They have a meeting with Professor Beery and the rest of the cast in a few hours."

"Er, practicing for what?" Hermione asked, feeling very confused.

"For the play, of course!" Alphard said. Then, seeing her face, he added, "What? You don't know?"

"Play?" Hermione repeated, dumbstruck. "You mean… Ron's trying out for _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_?"

"No, try outs were yesterday!" Alphard reassured her. Hermione was just starting to feel relieved when he said, "They already got the parts."

Hermione's jaw dropped. Her eyes darted towards Harry, but his sheepish expression only confirmed that Alphard was telling the truth.

"Ron? _Acting_? Oh, don't tell me – he's Sir Luckless?" she said, exasperated. "And Scarlett is Amata, his love?"

"Yeah, how'd you guess?" Harry asked, looking confused.

"Professor Beery mentioned that he wanted a real couple to play the parts," she replied simply, not mentioning that he had wanted _her_ for the part. She caught Riddle's eye and his expression told her that he did not want it known either.

As hard as Hermione tried, she could not see Ron playing the part of Sir Luckless. In fact, she could not see him playing any part at all.

"How did he end up auditioning?" Hermione asked Harry, though she had a sneaking suspicion.

"Scarlett talked him into it… he didn't really want to do it. You know how nervous he gets, but Scarlett insisted, so he thought he'd just try out to keep her happy. The thing is he wasn't actually expecting to get the part. You should have seen how shocked he looked when Professor Beery announced that he'd got the part!"

"I expect he's going to be rather _busy _preparing for this, isn't he?" asked Hermione pointedly.

Harry understood her meaning and, rather loyally, said, "Yes, especially towards the end of term – that's when the play is – but he is determined to keep up with his studies, even if it means staying up later."

She understood what Harry was trying to tell her, that Ron was not going to let this interrupt his research, but she was not appeased. She wished he did not have to do the play. It would just draw even more unneeded attention to them.

_Well, I guess it wasn't his fault… this time._

"Hermione," Riddle said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.

Hermione turned to see that he and Abraxas had stood up.

"I've got to go for a bit. Meet me in the library, in the last discussion room on your left hand side at 11 am," he said, giving her a meaningful look.

Hermione realized he was going to finally tell her how he knew so much about the necklace and agreed. Once Riddle had walked off, she looked over at Harry who was looking at her intently. She knew at once that he had understood.

They waited a few minutes before dismissing themselves, so as not to appear suspicious and made their way casually out of the Great Hall. Their exit was not as uneventful as they would have liked however. Just as they walked past the end of the Slytherin table, a spell came rushing at Hermione, missing her head by inches. She spun around alarmed, only to hear a faintly whispered hex. She did not even have time to duck, but Harry was much quicker than her and cried, "_Protego!_"

The spell ricocheted away from her, hitting the wall and dying there. Hermione looked around furiously to see who had cast the hex. She knew it had come from the Slytherin table because she would not have been able to hear the person otherwise, but she could see no wand, and more than a few people – mostly girls – were smirking.

She looked up at the teachers' table and saw that most of them were looking in her direction. Some looked at her in concern and others looked disapprovingly at the Slytherin table. Professor Slughorn was already making his way towards his House table. Hermione, however, had no desire to be kept back and lose her chance to take the potion, so she quickly walked out of the hall, her head held up high.

Once in the Entrance Hall, she was fuming.

"I can't believe the nerve of some people!" she hissed. "And all for _him_! If they knew what we knew – urgh! It wasn't even that bad when I went to the dance with _Krum_!"

"Calm down, Hermione," said Harry soothingly. "We knew it was going to happen. There's no point fuming about it. Now come on. We have to get you that potion."

"Harry," Hermione said suddenly as she followed him to the seventh floor. "Don't forget to check the map."

The memory of seeing Lauren in the Great Hall was still fresh in her mind.

"I checked it during breakfast already; he's with Abraxas in the library. Don't worry; he's not alone so I doubt he'd try anything anyway."

At the Room of Requirement, Hermione was able to examine the potion Ron and Harry had brewed. After comparing it with the description in the textbook, she found they had prepared it perfectly, thanks to the Prince's instructions.

Half an hour before she was due to meet Riddle, Hermione drank a goblet full of the potion. It tasted terrible and it was all she could do to keep herself from vomiting.

"That bad?" Harry asked, looking amused at her scrunched up face.

"It's worse than Polyjuice potion," she muttered. "Well, I suppose I should get going."

Harry hesitated before saying, "Look, Hermione. I could go with you. I could hide under the cloak, you know, in case he tries to hurt you or something."

Hermione was touched, but she knew it would be too risky.

"Harry, have you seen how small those discussions rooms are?" she asked. "There's hardly any room for you to hide. There's a good chance he'd bump into you. Besides, I really don't think he's going to try and hurt me. Intimidate maybe, but not hurt."

"Hermione," Harry said seriously, "are you forgetting who you are dealing with? This is Tom Riddle, the young Lord Voldemort. There's no saying what he's going to do."

"He hasn't tried anything yet," Hermione protested. "He tried to save my life for two times already. Besides, he needs me and he knows that. I have information that he doesn't and he's not going to risk trying to get the information by torturing me. That will just make me rebel against him and refuse to trust him anymore. He's smarter than that, Harry."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?" Harry said reluctantly.

"Of course I have," she replied with a small smile. "It isn't everyday a person makes a vow with the Dark Lord."

With that settled, Hermione made her way to the library alone. When she arrived there, she found that Riddle was already in the discussion room. The door was open and he was sitting at the only table in the room, pouring over their Potions textbook.

"Good to see you've made it," he remarked as she entered the room and somewhat apprehensively closed the door behind her. The room was small, as she had expected, but it was more than spacious enough for two people to share rather comfortably. She sat down in the seat next to Riddle.

"Curiosity killed the cat," she said, shrugging, trying to look relaxed but knowing she was failing. "So, I suppose you have some information for me?"

"Indeed, I do, but first," he said, raising his wand, aiming it at the door, and casting a number of charms for privacy. "That's better." He turned to face her, his eyes serious and narrowed. "I hope you haven't forgotten our agreement? I will tell you nothing until you take the vow."

She pretended to look putout and frowned.

"I take it you haven't changed your mind, then?" she asked, pretending to look somewhat hopeful.

"Did you really think I would?" he asked, his eyebrows raised and a slight smirk on his lips.

"No," she admitted reluctantly, "but I do want an extra line added."

"What?" he asked suspiciously.

"I want you to vow that you will tell me exactly how you found out that the necklace has healing properties and that it can absorb the Cruciatus curse."

"I _already_ said I would."

"I want you to vow it," Hermione insisted.

"Fine," he said coolly, shrugging indifferently. "Are you ready? I assume you know how this is done?"

She nodded, her mouth suddenly dry, all her faith resting on the potion that Harry and Ron had hopefully brewed correctly. She held out her left hand, which Riddle took in his, his fingers slipping between hers. Her skin tingled at the touch. They each raised their wands and aimed them at the other's wrist.

"Do you, Hermione Jean, vow by a Felix Vow of the Fifth Degree not to use any knowledge I share with you about the Founders' Necklace, any of my plans, or anyone acting according to my will against me, in any way, shape, or form, whether directly or indirectly, or through an accomplice?" he spoke clearly in a strong and determined voice.

"I do," Hermione whispered.

A blue band of light burst from the tips of each of their wands and looped around each of their wrists, like a neon blue bracelet. It felt cool against Hermione's skin.

"And to not share any of the said knowledge with any other soul, living or not, human or not, including leaving the information lying around in the hope that others may come across it and read it?" he asked.

_Wow, he sure has thought through this thoroughly… _

"I do," she stated confidently.

Two more bands appeared, this time a darker blue, and wrapped around their wrists below the first bands.

"And that in return for the knowledge that I will share with you, you will share with me anything and everything you know about the Founders' Necklace or that relates to it, and anything and everything that you will come to know?"

"I do," she said. After the third band wrapped around their wrists, Riddle looked at her expectantly, and she said, "Do you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, vow by a Felix Vow of the Fifth Degree that you will tell me exactly how you discovered the magical enchantments that exist on the Founders' Necklace, including those that block the Cruciatus curse and enhance healing?"

"I do," he said, his eyes fixed intently on his wrist as a final blue band wrapped around it. A moment later, the bands all became extremely cold, before vanishing completely.

There was a moment's silence in which they both stared at their now free wrists, before Riddle made the first move and slipped his hand out of hers.

"Excellent," he said, leaning back in his seat and looking at Hermione expectantly. "Why don't you go first?"

"Why should I go first?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because I'm assuming that whatever _you_ have to tell me won't take as long as what I have to tell – and show – you."

"Very well," Hermione said slowly, her expression carefully chosen to appear thoughtful. "To be honest, there isn't much that I know that I haven't told you already. The only thing I can think of is that time when I had fallen down the staircase and you found me."

"Oh?" Riddle said, his eyes examining hers sharply as he sat up straighter. "What happened?"

"The necklace – it suddenly became hot when you touched me," she admitted.

She knew exactly what she was doing. She needed to gain Riddle's trust by telling him as little as she could, while letting him think that she was telling him everything because she was under the vow.

Riddle looked thoughtful as he considered that piece of information.

"How curious," he said softly. "So did mine. Has it happened any other time?"

Hermione shook her head.

"No, and I don't understand why. At first I thought it was because we both wore a necklace and there might have been a connection whenever we touched. Then I remembered that time when you helped me up after I bumped into you. It must have been my first day here. You touched my hand and nothing happened then. And at Slughorn's party, again, we touched but it didn't burn. You don't know why, do you?"

"Not a clue," he said, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he absentmindedly tapped his wand against his leg. "Well, we can get back to that later. Is there anything else about the necklace that I should know?"

Hermione shook her head again and as she did, she felt sharp stab of pain around her temples, indicating the beginnings of what promised to be a terrible headache. She struggled to keep her face straight.

_Well, at least I know the potion worked._

"Nothing at all. That's all I know," she said.

Riddle looked at her suspiciously.

"You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Do you think I'd be sitting here so calmly if I wasn't?" she said, sounding exasperated. "So, I guess it's your turn to tell me how you found out about the enchantments."

His eyes still locked on hers in what Hermione thought was a rather intimidating stare, he raised his wand and tapped it sharply on his potions. Hermione was surprised to see that the book immediately morphed into a different book. It was enormous and tattered, made of a thick age-yellowed parchment that she had never seen before and bound in faded red leather. She saw that it was opened to page one hundred and seventy and the text was handwritten in dark green ink, as though by fountain pen. Along the lefthand side she saw a number of squares, handdrawn in black ink.

She looked up from the book curiously and met Riddle's gaze.

"What is this?" she asked.

"This," Riddle said, indicating at the book, "is the first volume of the single most expensive book series contained within these castle walls. It is over four hundred years old and kept well away from the curious and disaster proned hands of students on a special shelve of its own in the staffs' library."

Hermione looked at the book in awe.

"And how did you get _your_ hands on it?" she asked.

Riddle smiled smugly.

"I simply had to ask Professor Slughorn and naturally, he was more than happy to give me permission to read it."

"Naturally," Hermione repeated, rolling her eyes, "but what _is_ this book and what does it have to do with the necklace?"

"It's called _Llewellyn's Guide to Unraveling Magical Enchantments_," Riddle explained, now looking at the book with a look of satisfaction. "It's a sort of complete listing of spells that can be used to reveal the use of presence of _other_ spells and enchantments on a place or object. It explains how to use the spell and you see these black squares here? They're there so you can practice the spell in them, and when you've perfected it, the square gets filled with black ink, just like the ink used in the outline."

She starred at the book in awe, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide.

"Wow," she whispered.

"I know," Riddle said, enjoying her astonishment.

"That's amazing! That is absolutely _amazing_," she gushed. "So, that's how you found out? You used those charms to reveal the enchantments on the necklace?"

"Exactly. I've been going through the book for the last few weeks, trying every single spell in turn. I haven't found much so far – only what I've told you, but there are still five more volumes to go through. And I'm not even a tenth of the way through yet. That's where you come in," he added, looking at her intently again.

"Me?" she asked, surprised. "You're going to let me help you?"

Riddle sat back in his seat and crossed his arms against his chest, still studying her in a way that made her feel most uncomfortable.

"Yes, I think I will," he said slowly. "It will take far too long for me to do it alone, and some of the spells need to be cast in a certain way that makes it impossible for me to cast them on myself."

Hermione's face fell and she felt a spark of anger.

"You're going to use me as your guinea pig?" she asked indignantly.

Riddle rolled his eyes and said, "No, although that might come in handy. What I _meant_ was that some spells must be done with the wand arm outstretched, for example. Since I can't take my necklace off, that's impossible. So, are you in or not?"

Hermione did not need to think twice about.

"I'm in," she said quickly. "When do we start?"

* * *

**A/N** - I hope you enjoyed this update! And sorry about the delay - I was a bit stuck for inspiration towards the end. I hope the next chapter won't take as long - but I've got a very busy weekend ahead of me, so it may. Oh, and i plan to have about two more scenes which are from Dumbledore's PoV, and one of them will be a major scene involving Hermione but totally from Dumbledore's PoV. I just wanted to get an idea of what readers feel about that. Thanks!


	16. The Discovery

**Chapter 16**

"Now would be a good time," Riddle said, as he flicked through the book and landed on page seventy. He pushed the book across the table so that it sat between them. "This is the page I'm up to. You can do page seventy; I'll start on page seventy one. You might want to practise the charms on a spare piece of parchment before trying it on the book… just to avoid any… _disasters_."

Having said that, he started reading and did not spare Hermione another glance. Hermione followed his lead and read her page, which left her feeling apprehensive. There were four charms listed on her page and they all sounded rather complex.

She pulled a spare piece of parchment out of her bag and started practising her spell. It was more complex than she had imagined and was having great difficulty perfecting it. It did not help that her headache was growing progressively worse either.

Turning her head indiscreetly, she could see Riddle concentrating hard while still reading the first charm listed on his page. After a moment, he attempted to cast his spell, practising a number of times on a scrap piece of parchment before casting the spell on the square. Dark grey ink filled the square and then vanished a moment later. He cast the spell again and this time the square was filled instantly with pitch black ink. He had perfected the charm.

Hermione stared, not believing her eyes.

_Surely, he must have had an easy charm… _

Hermione turned back to her own charm and redoubled her efforts. By the time she had perfected it, Riddle was already starting on his fourth.

"Did the charm reveal anything on the necklace?" Riddle asked, watching as she cast the spell on her necklace.

"No, nothing," she replied, looking up. "What about yours?"

He shook his head and said quietly, "Nothing here either. It's to be expected. I tried over fifty spells before one of them worked."

They turned back to their work and this time Hermione managed to perfect the second spell on her page just as Riddle had finished his own page.

"Not bad," he commented softly, as her square turned black after her tenth try. "I didn't expect you to do so well on your first shot, to be honest."

Though there was not a trace of sarcasm in his tone, his comment deeply wounded her pride. Nevertheless, she still could not help but be impressed by how quickly he had mastered his charms, especially given that many of these were well beyond NEWT's level.

"How did you finish so quickly?" she asked grudgingly.

"Talent," he replied with a slight smirk.

They continued working that day throughout the afternoon, stopping only for a quick and late lunch and then resuming their work. It was a few hours before dinner when Riddle decided to stop their work, by which time Hermione was dismayed by the fact that Riddle had mastered more than twice the number of spells she had. Further adding to her annoyance was that instead of getting better as she had hoped, she grew progressively worse with each charm. Riddle had suggested, with his characteristic half-smirk, that she should be proud of what she had achieved, which was apparently "much more than what could have been expected from someone of your capacity".

To make matters worse, only one spell had been a success and it had been cast by Riddle. It simply revealed that preservation charms had been placed on the necklace to keep it from deteriorating over the years, which, as Hermione wryly pointed out, they could have figured out for themselves.

"I think that's enough," Riddle said, as Hermione stretched her sore limbs and stifled a yawn. "I have some study to do. We can continue tomorrow."

He charmed the book so that it appeared as a Potions textbook once more and carefully put it away in his bag before taking out his Arithmancy textbook.

"I'll see you at lunch, I guess," Hermione said, before taking her leave.

"Oh, and by the way, if anyone asks, we've simply been studying potions," he said before she opened the door, "no matter _what_ their imaginations might suggest."

Hermione fought back a blush at his tone before exiting the room. She noticed that as she did, she had drawn the attention of a number of people around her, some of whom were smirking.

_Great. Me and Riddle are coped up for hours in a small room and everyone automatically assumes the worst. I don't know how I'm going to survive this._

Feeling much too exhausted to do any study and her headache getting the better of her, Hermione decided to find Harry and Ron. However, she did not have to go far since she soon spotted Harry sitting at the other end of the library and surrounded by books.

"Hi, Harry," she said dully as she walked up to the table and slipped into the seat beside him.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, looking up in surprise. "I didn't see you at lunch. Are you okay?"

"We had a late lunch. I'm fine. Don't worry… well, as fine as I can be with this splitting headache," she said, grimacing as she rubbed her temples.

Harry looked at her sharply before casting the Muffliato charm.

"Is it because you broke the vow?" he asked, looking at her in concern.

"Yes. I had to lie to Riddle. He asked me to tell him everything I knew about the necklace, but I didn't tell him about time travel being a major possibility. And now my head is killing me… not to mention that I accidentally bit my tongue during lunch. I think the bad luck is starting to kick in as well," she added frowning. "Though if that's the worst of it, then I'm not complaining… better than a level five. Anyway, listen. I might as well tell you everything now since I already have a headache."

Hermione quickly explained what had happened.

"Listen, this headache is terrible and I couldn't stand having this everyday. So I'm not going to fill you in on what happens with Riddle everyday, okay? Maybe just once a week. And do you think you could tell Ron for me? Where is Ron, anyway? Don't tell me he's still practising?"

"Yeah, they're practising with Professor Beery. That guy is too enthusiastic. Anyway, Hermione, look what I found," he said, pulling forward a book that Hermione recognised immediately.

"_Famous Treasures of the Hogwarts Four_?" Hermione said, looking questioningly at Harry. "We've already looked at that, Harry. It didn't help much."

"Not for necklace, but have a look at this," he said, pushing the book towards Hermione.

Hermione's eyes grew wide as she immediately recognised the Whistle of Gryffindor.

"Oh, Harry! Excellent! This is brilliant!" she exclaimed.

"I know," he replied, grinning. "It doesn't really say much though, except that it belonged to Gryffindor and that he wore it around his neck on a chain. But this part here caught my eyes. It mentions that whenever he needed to summon his whistle, he did it by scrunching up his face and focusing on it. Apparently, it was enchanted by Ravenclaw for him so that whoever owns it can summon it that way."

Hermione was impressed.

"That's excellent. If Riddle tries to steal it and I'm certain he will, I can always just summon it back," she said.

Not too long later, they were joined by Ron, who was grinning sheepishly.

"Hey," he muttered before collapsing into a seat besides them, looking exhausted.

"Hello, Ron," Hermione said frostily, her lips pursed.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron asked, looking disgruntled.

"Oh, I don't know…" she began sarcastically. "I couldn't possibly be annoyed by the fact that someone had to try out for the part of Sir Luckless and secure the place, could I? All this extra attention is just what we needed, isn't it?"

"It's not my fault," Ron snapped, looking affronted. "Scarlett practically forced me to try out and Beery must've been smoking some unicorn hairs or something that night when he actually chose _me_ for the part."

"You didn't have to try so _hard_ during the audition," she replied.

She had not intended to tell Ron off so sharply, but her headache had left her in too much of a sour mood.

"I didn't try hard! Honestly, I mean, okay. I tried hard enough so I wouldn't embarrass myself, but how was I meant to know that Beery was looking for the best _couple_, not the best people? There were heaps of guys who were better than me, but none of the girls were as good as Scarlett. I mean I even _tripped_ on purpose but it didn't help. Beery was actually impressed and thought I did it as an_ interpretation of the character_!"

Hermione could not help but snort at the image. Harry took the chance to cut in.

"Look guys. There's no point arguing about it now. What's done is done," he said. "Besides, we have more important things to worry about."

And with that he proceeded to inform Ron about what had happened between Hermione and Riddle.

Hermione felt terrible for the rest of the day. By the time evening arrived, she had received a paper cut, tripped while entering the Great Hall (which attracted a fair amount of cruel laugher, mainly from female students), and had cut her finger at dinner. To make matters worse, her terrible headache made her nauseous.

Unfortunately for her, though she had felt better the next morning, at morning break Riddle had asked her if she was sure that she had told him everything she knew about the necklace.

"Of course I told you everything!" she said, trying to sound exasperated, but failing as her headache returning halfway through her sentence. "You'd know if I hadn't, Riddle."

She spent the rest of the day feeling ill and to make matters worse, Riddle had decided against having another 'study session' because of a monstrous assignment their Charms teacher had assigned to them. It was two days later when Riddle asked her to join him in the library again, but because it was on a weekday, they could only spend a few hours working that evening. Nevertheless, they still managed to work on it during the evenings for the rest of the week.

Again, Riddle had mastered the charms more than three times as fast as she had, but she found that without the constant headache hindering her, she was showing some progress. Riddle had noticed it, too.

"Not bad," he said slowly the following Saturday. "That one only took you what, ten minutes?"

Hermione did not miss his smirk, however. There were times when she noticed him watching her from the corner of his eye, as though observing her, and she could have sworn that he had once looked mildly impressed.

Meanwhile, Riddle was being very possessive of the book. He would never let her so much as look at it unless she was in his company. Even then, he was always looking over her shoulder as she did, as though trying to catch any clue that suggested she knew something that she was not telling him. As a consequence, she did not dare to do anything more than flip through the pages randomly and read over the contents page. To her disappointment, she had seen nothing on time travel charms at all.

Riddle was also dictating the means by which they tried the spells. Hermione had wanted to skip sections and focus on the more interesting and potentially useful charms. He, however, had insisted that they worked in order. She did not know how he had the patience to labour away on charms that revealed things like whether the necklace was charmed to remain warm in the winter when they could be uncovering more interesting truths such as whether the necklace protected the owner from other dark curses and the like. However, a part of her suspected that he had skipped ahead in his own time when she was not around. It made little sense to her otherwise.

While she and Riddle were working away together, Harry and Ron were working vigorously around their Quidditch and, in Ron's case, play practise. They poured through books in search of more information about the necklace, but still with little luck. Even though they tried to do it inconspicuously, Riddle still noticed them and tended to smirk in their direction whenever he caught them at it. Hermione was content simply knowing that if they found anything, she would not have to tell Riddle anyway.

The time passed very much in this fashion. By the time a fortnight had passed, Hermione and Tom had finished the first volume and were getting ready to start on the second, one Saturday morning. The first book had revealed something interesting: Hermione had learned more about the necklace's healing properties and suspected that not only did the necklace healed serious injuries (like those she had sustained herself), but its powers were also very well matched for injuries of the worst kind. They had also found that the necklace was very well suited to protect against certain dark curses. However, they were unable to find a spell in that volume which specified which dark curses exactly. All in all, though it was all very interesting, Hermione was glad that they were ready to start on the second volume, which she hoped would have more on time travel.

"Here it is," Riddle said, pulling the volume – disguised as a Potions book again – carefully out of his bag.

He lifted the charm of the book and Hermione saw that it looked just like the previous copy. Riddle was looking at it with the same kind of affection and respect that he had used for the previous volume. She had only seen him wear that expression when he was looking at two things – brilliant books and his Founders' Necklace.

Ruefully, Hermione knew that Riddle would be just as protective over this volume as he was over the previous one.

Just as Riddle had raised a hand to open the book, however, a knock sounded at the door. Riddle had only just managed to charm the book back to looking like his Potions textbook before the door opened. Hermione was surprised to see Professor Dumbledore standing there.

"Good morning to you. I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said, as he smiled at the two of them with a twinkle in his eyes.

Riddle stood up politely.

"Certainly not, Professor. How may we help you?" he said calmly, though Hermione noted that his arms, which he held behind his back, looked rather tense.

"I was hoping you would be able to assist me for a moment, Tom. You see, Mr. Malfoy seems to have had an unfortunate accident not too far from here and we found with him a mysterious object which we aren't sure what to make of. He managed with enough coherency to explain that you would have known what happened to him and would be able to set him right," Professor Dumbledore explained.

Hermione noted that the Professor looked suddenly amused.

"What's wrong with him, sir?" she asked curiously.

"He hasn't been able to stop singing muggle lullabies for the past half hour, according to Mr. Black," he said.

Hermione could not help but laugh at the image. Riddle did not seem too pleased, however.

"Would you mind accompanying me, Tom? He's only a few corridors away."

"Yes, sir," Riddle said dutifully, before turning to Hermione and facing her completely so that Dumbledore could not see his face. "I shan't be longer than a few minutes, Hermione. There's no need to start without me."

Even without the pointed expression he wore, Hermione would have understood Riddle's meaning exactly.

"Don't worry, Tom, dear," she said, smiling falsely. "I'll wait for you."

He looked at her suspiciously, but could say no more in Dumbledore's presence. He turned and followed a chuckling Dumbledore out of the door. As soon as she was sure they were out of sight and hearing, she sprung to her feet and snapped the door shut before hurrying back to the desk, not bothering to sit down again. To her utter frustration, it took her the best part of two minutes to remove Riddle's charm from the book. Once she did, she poured through the contents page and her stomach did a sort of leap when her eyes landed on the very words that had been the object of her search – time travel. She quickly flipped to the relevant pages and, realising that the time travel section spanned for many pages, decided that her best option would be to make a copy of the book. The copy would contain none of the book's magic, but that was not as important as gathering the theoretical knowledge that she needed.

She closed the book and whispered, "_Geminio_."

Just as a copy appeared besides the original, however, the library door burst open and Hermione was so startled that she jumped and spun around on the spot. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Riddle standing there, looking at the two identical books on the table, his expression extremely hard and his lips pursed tightly. It frightened her.

He stepped into the room, closing the door swiftly behind him. It was then that Hermione noticed that his cheeks were tinged pink. His hair was slightly dishevelled and he was breathing faster and more deeply than normal. It struck her that he must have run all the way back. His eyes moved from the books to her face, losing none of their hardness.

"I thought I told you to wait," he said quietly, his tone effortlessly menacing and sent a shiver down her spine.

"Technically, I didn't start without you," she said, sounding much more confident than she felt.

His eyes narrowed at her suspiciously.

"Why so eager, Hermione?" he asked softly, tilting his head slightly sideways as he considered her while taking a step forward. "What is it that kept you from waiting? One would think there was something you were looking for, something _specific_. Something you haven't told _me_ about."

"Why so anxious, Riddle? Hiding something yourself?" she asked. "I was just curious and –"

"_Liar_," he said, taking two swift steps towards her, completely closing the gap between them. He snatched her wand from her hand before placing each hand on the table either side of her, trapping her.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart pounded in fear as she recognised the precarious situation she was in. She felt vulnerable and defenceless, completely at the mercy of a man who knew little about what mercy truly meant.

"What were you really doing, Hermione?" he whispered, his eyes looking deep into hers. "What are you hiding from me? You can tell me. You can trust me."

"I told you, it's nothing, Riddle," she insisted quietly as she struggled to hold his gaze.

"Nothing? You're _sure_?" he said, raising an eyebrow in mocking disbelief. "It couldn't possibly have something to do with what Evans said, could it? About using the necklace to get home, hmm?"

Her eyes widened slightly and she shook her head. However, she was not as talented as Riddle at acting and she knew he did not believe it. He leaned in and whispered directly into her ear.

"What are you hiding from me, Hermione? What are you doing here, really?"

She felt his hot breath against her skin and shivered despite herself, her eyes widening at his proximity, though she did not dare to do anything while he had her wand.

"Do you mind?" she said, breathing deeply to calm herself.

Big mistake. The proximity meant that she breathed in nothing but his fresh scent. Her heart was beating ridiculously fast. She tried to lean back as far as she could, but that merely caused Riddle to chuckle.

"No need to fight it, Hermione," he said softly, piercing her with dark, captivating eyes. "Just let go of yourself. _Trust me_."

And with that, he leaned in towards her and pressed his lips against her own, kissing her softly.

Hermione froze completely as her mind turned utterly blank. She registered nothing more than the fact that his lips were soon moving against hers and that he was nudging her in her side with his wand, encouraging – or threatening – her to respond.

She kissed him back tentatively and he hastened to deepen the kiss. His soft, warm lips teased her own, effectively intoxicating her. His hands somehow found themselves around her waist and he pulled her in closer, but it was not until she felt his tongue gently urging her lips to part, that she came back to her senses.

_I'm kissing the Dark Lord._

She gasped and tried to push him away from her as her lips burned and her eyes widened in horror. Being much taller than her, he hardly moved at all, but to her relief he moved his face away from hers and released her from his arms. His arms returned to their places on the table and effectively trapping her again. She saw that his now darker lips were drawn into a satisfied smirk and that his cheeks were slightly flushed.

"W-what do you think you're doing?" she stuttered.

"I believe it's called a kiss," he said, smiling condescendingly at her shock.

Furious, Hermione glared at him and snapped, "Well, it certainly didn't feel like one."

That wiped the smirk from his face entirely. Instead, his eyes became dangerously dark.

"You're sure?" he whispered, moving in towards her again. "Because you're lips tell another story."

He lifted up a hand and traced her bottom lip with his thumb, and that was when Hermione saw her wand right in front of her face. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed whatever part of the wood she could.

"_Augmenti_!" she cried and a burst of ice cold water burst from the tip of her wand, splattering on both of them.

Riddle jumped back in shock, his grasp on her wand loosening and allowing Hermione to snatch it back. In the confusion, she grabbed her bag and, before he could stop her, flung the door open. She ran out of the library, ignoring the startled stares of the other students. In the corridor, however, her eyes started to burn with tears of frusration and she blinked hard to stop them. She continued to run, now in search of the nearest bathroom. She ran right into a startled Dumbledore as she turned a corner but ran right off again before he had the chance to look at her closely, hoping he had not recognised her.

At length, she found the bathroom, which was fortunately empty, and collapsed against a sink, looking into the mirror. Shame overwhelmed her as she saw that her lips looked slightly redder than usual.

It was not anger at Riddle that brought tears to her eyes. It was not even fear. It was shame and self disgust at the fact that she had kissed him back. It was shame at the fact that she had enjoyed it.

* * *

**A/N **- I hope all you Tom/Hermione shippers enjoyed that one! :D I hope it met your expectations. ;)


	17. The Accusation

**Chapter 17**

Hermione stared furiously at her reflection. If she had been honest with herself, she would have seen the signs. She would have realised she enjoyed their time together more than she should have, that her admiration of his talents and intelligence went much further than just a grudging respect, and that the way she blushed when he held her hand had little to do with simple embarrassment. She should have admitted that the jealous looks on the faces of Lucretia and Andrea left her feeling somewhat more satisfied than was appropriate. She would have realised that the place that Ron had left vacant in her heart had slowly been taken over by Riddle.

But it had taken that kiss to make her realise, to make her admit to herself that she had feelings for him. And it disgusted her.

_I don't like him. I don't, I don't, I don't. I can't._

Even as she repeated those words of denial in her mind, she knew that she was lying.

_I do._

She stared at herself desperately in the mirror.

_Harry and Ron are going to hate me. He killed Harry's parents. His snake almost killed Ron's dad. I've betrayed them._

The thought caused a tear to escape and slide down her cheek and she hastily wiped it away. Her thoughts wondered back to Riddle and, with a guilty feeling in her stomach, remembered the way he had kissed her.

_He was using you_, she told herself. _He doesn't really care. He doesn't like you. He doesn't like anyone. He was trying to seduce you into talking. _

The thought made her feel even more ashamed, especially because she had kissed him back and slipped so far into his ploy. He was manipulating her, and she let him. The thought made her angry, and she stood up straight with a newfound determination.

_He won't get to me. He won't use me. I won't let him._

* * *

When Hermione left the bathroom a few minutes later, she was shocked to see a no longer wet Riddle waiting for her in the corridor, leaning against the wall and looking determined though rather angry. She cast a fleeting look at his lips and felt herself blushing. He stepped forward sharply when he saw her.

"Hermione," he said, giving her a withering look.

"Riddle," she replied, sounding more confident than she felt, her head held up high. "Have you been waiting for me? How very thoughtful of you!"

Riddle narrowed his eyes, but let the comment pass.

"I'm only here to tell you that you can forget about our study sessions. You're not going anywhere near that book until you tell me what you're hiding from me," he said quietly, but forcefully.

Hermione's expression fell.

"You can't – you made the vow!" she said angrily.

Riddle smiled; a cruel, mocking smile.

"I promised I'd tell you how I discovered the magical enchantments that exist on the necklace – and I've done that. I have no obligation to share anything else with you."

Hermione frowned, realising he was right, but another plan came to mind. She had abstained from trying to borrow the other volumes herself while Riddle was sharing the first volume with her, in order not to make him suspicious – but there was nothing stopping her from trying to borrow them now.

Then, uncannily, as though he had been reading her mind, Riddle said smugly, "Oh, and don't even bother trying to borrow the other volumes of _Llewellyn's Guide_ yourself. You don't qualify – the rules clearly state that a review of the student's record for the past half year must be provided and you've only been here for a few months. See you at lunch," he added with a satisfied smirk before walking swiftly away.

Hermione watched him leave, infuriated, before rushing back to the library and asking the librarian if it was true. Predictably, it was, and she was in a very sour mood as she stalked out of the library and hide away in the Room of Requirement.

Hermione skipped lunch that day. Not only did she have a terrible headache because she lied to Riddle, but she had decided for her sanity and safety that she would have to stay away from Riddle. It was not safe – not that it had ever been safe, but the risk seemed to have suddenly escalated. She was attracted to him, and he seemed to suspect it for he was already trying to use it for his own ends. However, she could not possibly give him that satisfaction, not while she knew what he was capable of. To her delight, part of staying away from him entailed putting an end to their supposed "relationship".

By dinner time she knew that she could not continue hiding. For one thing, she did not want Harry and Ron to worry, and at the same time did not want to give Riddle the satisfaction of thinking that he had scared her away from lunch and dinner. So Hermione made her way slowly to the Great Hall, slightly nervous about the fact that she was going to snub Riddle.

_He has it coming. Someone needs to put him in his place._

When Hermione entered the Great Hall, she did so with her head held up high. She immediately noticed that the hall was already full and that she was late, and, rather than the customary glares that she was used to receiving, a number of people – mostly girls – were looking at her with expressions of glee, with smirks covering many faces. Hermione wondered at this for a moment, and realised that many students have seen her running away from Riddle, looking distressed.

_Oh. No doubt the Hogwarts rumour mill had been running overtime. _

Hermione looked determinedly at the Slytherin table and saw Harry and Ron sitting at the edge closest to her, very far away from Riddle. Satisfied, she sat down next to them and she saw, from the very corner of her eye, that Riddle showed no sign of taking notice of her and continued with his conversation with Abraxas. She wished she could say the same for others – Hermione saw Andrea looking absolutely delighted by the fact that she was not sitting next to Riddle, for a change.

"Hermione," Ron said, looking relieved. "Where've you been? We've been worried about you!"

"Wait," Harry said before casting the Muffliato charm.

"Listen, Hermione," Ron said. "This place is going crazy with all these rumours about you and Riddle. Apparently, you were seen running from that room you guys use to read that book, and you looked really upset. According to some Hufflepuff fifth years who claim to have overheard, that pile of doxy droppings dumped you and you couldn't take it so you ran away in tears."

_Oh, so that explained the glee_, Hermione thought ruefully. _They're all happy because they think he dumped me. How ironic… _

"Of course, we realised that was rubbish, but the part about you running away does seem to be a common event in all the different versions of the story," Harry added, looking concerned. "So what _really_ happened? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, he didn't," Hermione said reluctantly. "We had a fight. He caught me flicking through the book without permission and wanted to know what I was after. He thought I was hiding something from him about what he overheard you saying, Harry. He hasn't forgotten what you said about us needing to find out something about the necklace to go home. And well, I refused to speak and he got kind of angry. I tried to leave, but he blocked my way and took out his wand. I managed to get away, but I panicked and ran so he wouldn't catch me. I've been in the Room of Requirement since then."

Hermione felt guilty about lying to them, but her guilt at kissing Riddle was worse, and she just could not bear to tell them the truth, especially knowing that they would defend her and that she was not worthy of it.

"That bloody –" Ron said, calling Riddle such names that would no doubt earn him a detention if the likes of Professor McGonagall had overheard it.

"Anyway," Hermione said pointedly, "I've decided it would be best to stay away from him from now on, given that he's getting rather pushy."

"Good choice," Ron said, nodding vigorously.

"I agree," added Harry. "Just stay away – he's too much trouble."

After that, the conversation turned to the upcoming Quidditch match and Hermione was able to lose herself to her thoughts. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Riddle was still acting like nothing had happened, but Hermione was sure that he was fuming on the inside, and only playing along to save face. Hermione knew that she was very lucky. If it were not that everyone already thought that Riddle had been the one to break up with her, they would have thought that Hermione was snubbing Riddle by sitting with Ron and Harry, which he no doubt would not have been happy about.

After a while, the students started to leave the hall, and Hermione watched again from the corner of her eye as Riddle made his way past her end of the table, walking past her, tall and proud, sparing her only the most indifferent of glances. But what really caught her attention was that Andrea had her eyes fixed hungrily on him and Hermione did not miss the smirk on her face that was no doubt addressed to her personally. Andrea stood up quickly and followed Riddle across the hall. She was perhaps lucky that so many other students were also leaving at the same time; otherwise her intentions would have been embarrassingly obvious.

Andrea reached Riddle just before he could leave the hall. Hermione could not hear what she was saying from where she sat, but the hopeful expression on Andrea's face and the way she twirled a lock of hair around her finger flirtatiously did not escape her notice. Riddle's eyes, which had been observing Andrea with polite interest, wandered away from her for a moment, and Hermione started when his eyes locked on hers. The slightest of smirks crossed his features so quickly that Hermione had to wonder if she imagined it. He turned back to Andrea and though she could not make out what he said, it must have been good because he soon left the hall and Andrea practically skipped back towards the Slytherin table were she sat down next to her excited friend.

"Did you ask him?" her friend gushed.

Andrea beamed and cast a vindictive look over at Hermione before gloating loudly, "Yes, I asked him if he'd want to go with me to Hogsmeade this weekend. He said he was not sure if had the time to go but he'd get back to me about it tomorrow."

Hermione looked away, pretending to be indifferent but found herself fuming on the inside. She had no doubt that Riddle had only said that to anger her. Much to her embarrassment, she felt a pang of jealousy, which only made her angry at herself.

_He. Is. Evil. Get over it!_ she thought, chastising herself.

"Hermione?"

The sound of Harry's concerned voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"What?" she asked, sounding more irritable than she had intended.

"Er, nothing… it's just that your knuckles are turning white," he said, indicating to her hand.

It was then that Hermione realised she had a death-grip on her fork and put it down immediately.

"Maybe it's better if we don't go back to the common room just yet," she said reluctantly.

"Oh, you can stay back and watch us practise for the play!" Ron said suddenly. "We're going to see all the stage props and things today!"

He looked so excited that Hermione did not have the heart to say no, and so she and Harry stayed back with Ron in the Great Hall after everyone else had left. The only other people who remained were a handful of Professors and the three other girls in the play: Scarlett, Bethany, who was a fifth year Gryffindor and, to Hermione's surprise, a Ravenclaw girl of their year who Hermione recognised as Emma Kay, a good friend of Lauren's. Emma was very studious, but she was also very loud, witty, and confident. She was tall and slight chubby, but had a very pretty face that was framed with very short, straight black hair. In fact, Hermione noted, all the girls auditioning were rather pretty. She wondered if Professor Beery had been a bias judge.

"Okay, gather round, everyone!" Professor Beery called. "Ah, Ron, I see you've brought some friends along! Good to see you, Harry, Hermione."

"Hello, sir," Harry said politely once they had gathered around him. Hermione noted in surprise that Professor Dumbledore was amongst the Professors present and was even more surprised to see that he had been looking at her. He gave her a friendly smile when she caught his eye, however, before he looked away.

"Right then," Professor Beery said, looking excited. "As I'm sure you all know, our play is set to occur this very Friday, just under a week away! So, today I thought we could test our stage props to make sure they are all in order and so that our stars –" here he beamed at Scarlett, Bethany, Emma and Ron "– can get any idea of how the stage will be set up. Now, Professer Kettleburn has been good enough to provide us with a gigantic worm, could you please explain for the students, Silvanus?"

Professor Kettleburn shook his head and said, "Now, now, Herbert, you _know_ the worm is meant to be surprise. But I can tell you this – it will be real, and it will be very much _alive_! Now, that leaves us with one little problem. Bethany, I believe you will be playing Asha, correct? Yes, well I very much doubt that you will like having a giant worm drinking the tears from your face, and even if you did, it would be very hard to get the worm to do so. So, Professor Beery has agreed that we will adapt the play so that the ash – er I mean, the worm simply returns below stage once you've shed your tears."

Bethany simply shrugged and nodded, and Professor Beery ask the other teachers to explain their roles. Hermione had found Professor Dumbledore's explanation of how he transfigured a fountain of water and a hill that slid under the stage as the characters climbed up very interesting, and was fascinated by the explanations of magic that she had never heard of before. She had, perhaps unsurprisingly, been the only one to ask questions, which Professor Dumbledore seemed to appreciate. However, by the time the discussion had turned to clothing, with the promise of make-up and hair styling to follow, Hermione's headache had taken it's toll on her and she hurriedly whispered her apologies to Ron and slipped away from the Great Hall. Not wanting to go to her common room, she rested in an unused classroom for what she thought was at least half an hour before she felt slightly better and returned to watch them practise.

Hermione was surprised that Ron's performance was actually not as bad as she expected. The character he was playing, Sir Luckless, was a rather pitiable man and she suspected that Ron related to the part because the character reflected his own lack of confidence.

Hermione applauded along with Harry and the Professors when the play was over and Ron came over towards them, grinning sheepishly.

"So, what did you think? I mean, it's not perfect yet, and I wasn't wear the suit of armour –"

"You were brilliant, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "What other talents have you been hiding from us?"

"Yeh, Ron," Harry said, grinning. "Great job."

"Butterbeers for everyone!" Professor Beery, who had clapped harder than anyone else, called out. "Excellent job, you four. Just excellent! Emma, Harry, you're closest, could you fetch the butterbeers, please? They are just behind the door of the staff entrance."

Emma and Harry both did as Professor Beery asked and walked away from the group towards the staff entrance, which was just behind the staff table. Hermione watched as Emma opened the door and was surprised to see her freeze before letting out a heart-stopping scream. Everyone turned in shock and saw Harry, looking pale, pull Emma away from the door. She looked terrified and had tears in her eyes.

Hermione, along with everyone else, ran forward and looked though the doorway in search of what Emma had seen and she, too, stopped in terror, her mouth hanging open in shock.

Across the room, Andrea was lying stiffly on the floor, undeniably Petrified.

Hermione, who felt suddenly nauseous, felt herself being pushed out of the way as the Professors rushed into the room. In the Great Hall, Scarlett and Bethany were trying to comfort Emma, who was now crying uncontrollably. Harry and Ron stood to a side, looking grim.

"_She_ did it! I know she did, who else could have done it?" she heard Emma sob. "First Lauren, and now Andrea!"

"Don't be silly, Emma," Bethany soothed, "she couldn't have done it, it must've been someone else. Look, don't cry, I know you're upset about Lauren but –"

"She did it!" Emma shrieked, pushing Bethany away. "She knew Lauren was the one who hexed her, and we all saw the way Andrea was flirting with Tom! She did it, she's _jealous_. She's green as gillyweed!"

Hermione stared in shock as she realised what Emma was saying.

"Emma, Hermione isn't the Heir, anyone could have –"

But Emma shook her off and gave Hermione a terrible glare before storming out of the Great Hall. Hermione was painfully aware that Bethany and Scarlett were now staring at her, and that Scarlett was looking at her somewhat uncertainly.

Hermione turned away from them and hurried out of the Great Hall, feeling terrible. She could not believe that Emma had come to that conclusion, and she was terrified that others might agree with her. And the thought that Riddle could have Petrified Andrea after toying with her affections just hours earlier sent shivers down her spine.

Harry and Ron caught up with Hermione just outside the Great Hall.

"Hermione, don't let her get to you," Ron said emphatically. "She's being stupid; no one is going to suspect you of opening the Chamber. That's just crazy. And according to Scarlett, she's been an emotional wreck ever since Lauren was Petrified. They were really good friends, you know."

"That's right, and I just can't believe Riddle got into the chamber without me seeing him on the map again. I can't believe I let myself get distracted! But what I really want to know is why Riddle attacked Andrea?" Harry said angrily. "She's not a Muggle-born, is she?"

Hermione shook her head.

"She doesn't really know what she is," she explained. "She lives with her mum, who is a Muggle, but she never knew her dad. Her mum doesn't even know who fathered her. He might have been a Wizard, or he might not. Riddle was taking a gamble with this one… but I don't understand why."

"He might have finally gotten sick of that girl flirting with him," Ron said darkly. "Probably thought it was a good way to get rid of her. And we know he was going for Lauren since before Slughorn's party anyway, so he can't have chosen her on purpose."

Hermione nodded but still felt uncertain. Did Riddle perhaps have some sort of agenda against girls who liked him? And would people really think along the same lines Emma did?

She found out the answer to query the next the morning. The news that Andrea had been Petrified spread across the school like wildfire. Fortunately for Hermione, she did not hear a single word of accusation from the Slytherins, although many of them were visibly shaken by the attack on Andrea. They had not been expecting an attack on one of their own. Not even Abraxas was gloating. Infuriatingly, the only person who did not seem overly bothered by the news was Riddle, and that was to be expected. Naturally, he pretended to look worried when the news broke, but had returned to his study shortly afterwards. He was the only person in the whole common room studying.

It was painfully obvious at breakfast, however, that the rest of the school was not of the same opinion. When Hermione entered the hall with Harry and Ron, almost all eyes at the Ravenclaw table were on her, as were a handful of the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors – no doubt Emma had spread her suspicions. Some of them looking simply curious, others suspicious, and yet some people were looking at her with pure hatred in their eyes. It was the most uncomfortable breakfast she had ever sat through and she finally understood what Harry had been through in his second year.

"Some people are so ridiculous," Ron muttered.

A few minutes into breakfast, Headmaster Dippet stood up to make an announcement and it was only then that Hermione, who had kept her eyes on her plate the whole time, noticed the three unfamiliar men seated besides him.

"Attention, attention, please," said Headmaster Dippet, his voice only just loud enough to carry across the hall. "Due to the very unfortunate events that have taken place in Hogwarts over the last few months, the Ministry has called in its Aurors to run a full scale investigation at Hogwarts, with my approval. The head Auror in charge, Auror Pollux Purcell," he said, indicating to a rather severe looking man on this right, "will be conducting interviews with staff and friends and family of students over the next few days. Anyone with any information should step forward immediately and contact Professor Dumbledore, who is in charge of taking care of our guests. Thank you."

Hermione noticed uncomfortably that faces were shifting towards her again, and she could see Emma Kay over at the Ravenclaw table, looking as though she were eager to speak to the Aurors that very minute. Hermione chanced a glance at Riddle, and saw that he was sitting completely at ease, watching the Aurors with polite curiosity. He did not seem too worried, and Hermione knew he had nothing to worry about – only Dumbledore ever suspected him, and even that amounted to little.

Hermione wanted nothing more than to leave breakfast early, but her pride would not allow it. It would come across as weak, and it would only fuel those who hated her. So she waited, along with Harry and Ron, until a number of people started to leave the hall (which took a while given that it was the weekend).

"Come on, Hermione," Harry said gently. "Let's go."

Hermione stood and followed him and Ron out of the hall, her head held high and making eye contact with no one. Once out side of the hall, she breathed a breath of relief.

"That was terrible," she said sadly.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Harry said, shaking his head. "They'll get over it soon. It's the same thing that happened with me."

"And even if they don't… well, it's not like we plan to stay here for too much longer," Ron added.

Before Hermione could reply, a boy who looked to be in his seventh year called out to Hermione from the near the staircase.

"Off to the Chamber, are you, you little shrew?" he called, giving her an ugly look. "They'll have you out of here in no time. Filth like you don't belong here."

His words left Hermione with a terrible feeling inside, but she had no time to even consider retorting as Ron had already pulled out his wand and was advancing towards him, looking furious.

"I'll show you, you rotten –" Ron started, but was cut off by a sharp, authoritative voice from behind them.

"Wesley, wand away. _Now_. Scantlebury, twenty points from Hufflepuff and if you don't leave right now it'll be thirty."

Hermione spun around and was shocked to see that Riddle was standing just behind them, giving the boy who she assumed was called Scantlebury a cold, hard look. Scantlebury did not need telling twice. He indicated to his friends and they hurried away without another glance back.

Hermione turned back to Riddle, torn between gratitude and fury. She was not sure what to say, but Riddle simply gave her a swift look, his expression still hard before simply walking away.

Ron, who was still holding his wand, glared at Riddle's back before he disappeared into the corridor that lead to the Slytherin common room.

"Filthy git, didn't need him to interfere…" he murmured angrily.

"Thanks Ron, I appreaciate it. But you shouldn't have lost your temper," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"He had no right to talk to you like that!" Ron said indignantly. "I couldn't just let it pass."

"As much as I agree with you Ron, Hermione's right. He might be the first, but certainly not the last," Harry said grimly. "It's just like what happened in our second year. The only thing we can really do is ignore them."

Hermione nodded absentmindedly at Harry's words, her mind too preoccupied with the cold look Riddle had given Scantlebury. Much as she tried, she could not understand it at all.

* * *

**A/N** - I hope you enjoyed that! I'm sorry about the delay! I actually had this ready two days ago but when I went to post it I couldn't login in! Also, I start uni again next week and I'm in for a very busy year, so updates won't be coming as often as they used to! I'll try to have a chapter up every 10-14 days though!


	18. The Play

**Chapter 18**

Sunday passed much more easily than Hermione had expected. The lack of classes meant that she, Harry, and Ron were able to spend most of the day in the Room of Requirement, away from prying eyes. Even though Harry and Ron had suggested eating in the kitchens, Hermione would not hear of it. Avoiding Riddle was one thing, but to avoid the whole school was unthinkable. Everyone would know that she was hiding and that would only fuel further suggestions of her guilt. And so they allowed themselves a late lunch and dinner, by which time most students had cleared out of the hall.

It was towards the end of their dinner, when the hall was almost empty, that Minerva approached the Slytherin table and sat down beside Hermione with a tentative smile on her face.

"Hello, Hermione," she said.

Hermione started, feeling hopeful.

"Hi, Minerva," she replied cautiously. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you. And, well… I won't even ask how you're feeling," she said, looking at Hermione sympathetically. She then added quickly, "Look, I just wanted to say that I don't agree with what a lot of people are saying about you being the Heir of Slytherin and all. I know Emma was really upset about what happened to Lauren, but Lauren was my friend, too, and I know that letting accusations fly isn't going to help her. Besides, Lauren had been missing long before you even knew it was her who hexed you."

Hermione's heart raced as she realised that Minerva actually believed in her.

"Thank you, Minerva. It means a lot to me, really."

As it turned out, Minerva was not the only one who doubted the new suspicions. A number of her friends were uncertain as well, and though they were not rushing to defend her either, it still gave Hermione some hope. Most surprising, however, was the fact that most of Hermione's supporters came from Slytherin House itself. When Hermione returned to the common room just a minute before curfew that night, she was immediately whisked away by a very excited, though somewhat agitated, Alphard towards the back of the room where Jacqueline was sitting with Lucretia and some seventh year Slytherin.

"Of course we all think it's rubbish," he said. "I mean, you've never said anything against Muggle-borns. And I know some idiots think that the fact that you arrived on the same day the attacks started sealed the deal, but that's just _stupid_. I mean, you wouldn't have even known Peter, or known that he's a Muggle-born, and I'd _love_ to know how you were able to find the Chamber in such a short time. Besides, no one saw you go anywhere near the Great Hall."

"Thanks, Alphard," Hermione said, and she could not help but smile at his defence for her.

"Jacqueline thinks along the same lines, too, and Lucretia agrees, although she has a pretty different type of reasoning. In fact, most Slytherins think the idea of you doing it is hilarious."

"Hermione!" Jacqueline cried when she saw her, jumping to her feet. "Come sit down with us! We were just talking about you. It's unbelievable how gullible some people can be. Absolutely unbelievable. I don't know how anyone can think that you are the Heir of Slytherin. I mean, you're a half-blood yourself for goodness sake!"

"Exactly," Lucretia sneered from where she was seating on the couch. "You're a half-blood. As if a _half-blood_ could ever be the Heir of _Slytherin_."

Hermione could not help but smile at the irony of her words. She did not seem to be alone in that opinion, however. Most of the Slytherins rejected the idea of her being the Heir of Slytherin based on the blood status.

_Imagine if they knew I am actually Muggle-born._

The following day did not pass as smoothly as Sunday did. Hermione could no longer avoid people, and all day in her classes, students from other Houses were looking at her suspiciously and sitting as far away from her as possible, as though they expected her to attack them in the middle of the classroom. One Gryffindor boy even went as far as to pointedly show Hermione the clove of garlic that he wore around his neck, only to have it confiscated by Professor Dumbledore, who smiled reassuring at Hermione. That had lifted her hopes somewhat as it reminded her that Dumbledore suspected Tom, not her.

At the end of that Transfiguration class, Minerva approached Hermione once again. This time, she looked slightly anxious.

"Hi, Hermione. I just thought you should know that the Aurors interviewed me today, and they...er...well, they asked about you. They interviewed Emma before me, so I'm sure she would have told them all about her ridiculous theory," Minerva said quickly, looking exasperated. "But I told them it was absurd and I listed all the reasons I could think of. I just thought you should know that they were asking about you."

"Thanks, Minerva," Hermione said calmly, though she was extremely unnerved.

She shared a look with Harry and Ron and she saw that they looked exactly how she felt.

"You don't think...I mean, like Minerva said, it could be standard questioning, right? It's not like they have any proof or anything… it's just speculation," said Ron.

Harry nodded vigorously.

"That's right; they don't have _anything_ against you, Hermione."

But Hermione did worry. In fact, she spent the whole day worrying, for it seemed that almost everywhere she turned, she could see one of the three Aurors walking around the castle, examining walls or randomly questioning students who happened to walk by. She made a point of avoiding them whenever she could, simply because they gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

It was not until that evening that something finally drove the thought of the Aurors out of her mind. It occurred as she and Ron made their way hurriedly back to their common room from the Room of Requirement. It was only a few minutes from curfew and they were still on the seventh floor. Suddenly, without warning, Ron fell to ground and Hermione gasped, immediately recognising that he had been stunned. She thought she heard a sound around the corner in front of her. Shocked and somewhat frightened, she raised her wand to defend herself, but the undeniable sound of footsteps came from behind her and she spun around quickly on her spot. Her body went cold when she saw Riddle step out from behind a large statue, his wand raised and his eyes on Ron, looking both satisfied and disdainful.

"That was surprisingly easy," he said, his tone falsely conversational.

It suddenly occurred to Hermione that she was alone with Riddle just before curfew on the seventh floor in a mostly uninhabited corner of the castle and, apart from the stunned figure of Ron lying on the floor, they were very much alone. Her throat was suddenly very dry.

"What do you want?" she asked.

But Riddle ignored her and continued looking at Ron.

"You know, in this dim light, he really does look like he's been Petrified, doesn't he?" Riddle said softly. "Shame he's a half-blood."

"What do you want?" Hermione demanded, her voice more shrill at the implied threat.

"What? Surely, I haven't made you uncomfortable, Hermione?" he said mockingly, finally looking at her. "Not you, surely? You are everyone's favourite candidate for the Heir of Slytherin."

"I – I –" she stuttered, too angry for words.

"You've been too careless, Hermione," Riddle said suddenly, his expression hardening slightly. "_Much_ too careless. Your little stunt cost us more than you can imagine."

"What stunt?" she asked, completely thrown off course by Riddle's change in tact.

"Don't play the fool with me," he said coldly. "If you had not let everyone believe that we'd broken up, I would have never given Andrea the time of day when she had so shamelessly flirted with me, and no one would have ever suspected you, Tom Riddle's jealous _ex_-girlfriend of being the Heir of Slytherin. Don't you realise how much attention this could draw to our research?"

Hermione stared at him, flabbergasted. Didn't he even care that she was taking the blame for his crime? But of course he did not care… no, Tom Riddle cared only for one person, and that was himself. Everyone else was just a pawn, there to be used to his advantage and disposed of when the opportune moment arose.

"How – how is this my fault?"

"I didn't give you permission to break up with me, but that isn't important right now. No, what's important is that you've been hiding things from me, Hermione. Don't think I've forgotten that. You swore a Felix Vow to tell me everything you knew, and I know that there's something you aren't telling me. Now, I don't how you've done it, but there must have been a loop hole in the Vow that I missed. But I will not tolerate it any longer," he said warningly, stepping intimidating towards her.

Hermione instinctively took a step back, her wand raised, certain that the only reason she had not already cowered was because of the courage the necklace was bestowing on her.

Riddle flicked his wand and cast a nonverbal spell, and before Hermione even had time to react, her wand flew from her hand and landed neatly in his. Before her panic could really set in, Riddle had her pinned against the wall, with his palms pressed firmly against the wall on her either side, locking her in.

"Get _away_ from me," Hermione insisted firmly, horrified by their proximity, the memory of their last encounter fresh in her mind.

But Riddle only smiled, a fond though condescending smile.

"You didn't mind so much last time, though, did you?" he said softly, his eyes locked on hers. "No, you liked it very much."

Hermione didn't respond. Instead, she tried to move away from him, but found to her horror that she could not move her legs or arms, nor could she turn her head away from him. Riddle chuckled at the alarmed expression on her face.

"Just a precaution. No need to look so afraid. You have no reason to fear me, Hermione. We'd make a good team, you and I. We both have something the other needs, don't we? If you tell what you've been hiding from me, I'd be more than willing to tell you what you want to know, or to even help you find it. You'll find that I can be very reasonable, Hermione," he said.

He spoke as though his words were height of reason, as though he was doing her a great favour. But Hermione truly understood at that moment how Riddle was able to manipulate those he needed. It was only the fact that she knew exactly who he was that was keeping her safe from his suggestions.

"No," she whispered.

"Tut, tut, not so fast. I'm not finished yet," he said quietly and as he did so, he leaned his head slowly towards her, as though to kiss her. Her eyes locked on his lips and her breath caught in her throat. She watched in terror as he drew closer, until he was tantalisingly close. She wished he would step away from her, but a small part of her yearned for him to close the gap. Then, suddenly, he took a step away from her, putting a sizable distance between them, his arms no longer by her sides. Hermione felt suddenly cold, robbed of the warmth that his proximity provided, and very much ashamed.

"You'll find I can a formidable opponent to those who oppose me, Hermione. Remember your Vow. You have one week to choose where your alliances stand. Until then," he said warningly, before walking away.

* * *

What Hermione and Riddle both failed to realise was that the stunned Ron was not the only other person in their presence. The sound that Hermione had heard in the corridor around the corner had in fact been the footstep of none other than Albus Dumbledore, who was conducting his routine check of the corridors. In their defence, he was, of course, invisible, as that made the job so much easier, and so when he turned quietly into the corridor where the three were, his presence went very much unnoticed. Naturally, upon noticing just who he had run into and the tension in the air, he chose to remain unseen.

He watched as the events unfolded before him, wand always ready in case Riddle went a step too far. He watched as Riddle walked away and Hermione stared at the wall in front of her, not yet aware that she could move. Her hands, however, were trembling and she soon took a step away from the wall, casting a worried look at her friend, Mr. Wesley.

Albus was still trying to understand what had happened. The only point he had really understood was that Hermione had information that Tom wanted, but that she was unwilling to give… and that Tom had information for her in return. Albus thought back to his trip to Godric's Hollow. He had found no clues at the Monument, and yet he was sure that something significant had occurred there to make Tom consider the trip a success. Could the information be related to that? Or to the Necklace itself?

But a more sinister suggestion had crept into his mind. Albus could hardly believe it, but it almost seemed to him that Tom's warning about Hermione being careless implied that Hermione had _exposed_ herself.

He watched as Hermione, her hands now stable, Enervated her friend and told him that a young girl whose face she did not see had stunned him.

_Could Hermione Jean really be the Heir of Slytherin?_

* * *

The next few days passed very slowly for Hermione. On one hand, there was the constant staring, whispers, and occasional abuse from suspicious students to deal with, and on the other, her heart seemed to skip a beat whenever she saw one of the Aurors, as though certain they were ready to lock her up in Azkaban. But they never stopped her or even so much as looked at her, though she knew it was only a matter of time before they did.

However, nothing wreaked havoc in her mind the way Riddle did. Not that he had bothered her since that Monday night, but the fear that he might confront her again before the week's time was up, perhaps to change his mind or give her a little reminder, kept her distracted all day long. And the thought that he might give her a reason to see Lord Voldemort shining through that handsome face terrified her late into the night. It was one thing to know that he was the one attacking the Muggle-borns, but it was another altogether to actually _see_ him doing something evil. Part of her knew that it would take catching him in the act and seeing the evil shine through his eyes for her to truly fear him and put aside her feelings.

With all this on her mind, Hermione was very pleased when the day of Ron's play finally arrived. It providing her with the perfect opportunity to distract herself and take her mind off of things. An hour before the play was set to start, Harry and Hermione made their way down to the Great Hall just as Ron had asked them to and meet with him at the entrance. Hermione could not help but be amused at his appearance. Rather than the suit of armour that Sir Luckless usually wore, Ron was clad in an old-fashioned tunic of deep emerald green that came just past his knees and was split slightly at the front. Printed across the front was a gold dragon. His arms and legs were protected by shiny chain mail and his feet laden in thick, heavy black boots. On his head, he wore a metal helmet that left his face exposed and around his waist was a belt to which his sword was attached.

"Well," he said self-consciously. "What do you think? I mean, we had to ditch the chain mail on the neck because I couldn't really move, and the gloves were just down right annoying but–"

"I think you look brilliant, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, beaming.

"I agree," added Harry. "Hilarious, of course, but brilliant! I only wish I have a camera, you know, to prove it to Fred and George when we get back."

"Oh, shut up, Harry," Ron said, but he looked pleased, or at least as pleased as such a nervous person could look. For indeed, Hermione thought that Ron looked just as he did before a Quidditch match – ready to vomit.

"Ron, didn't you say Professor Beery had a potion ready for your nerves?" Hermione asked.

Ron grimaced in response.

"Yeah, but I have to take it about five minutes before the show starts because he couldn't get much of it. I just hope it lasts," he added, his face turning slightly green. "Anyway, I should really be getting back inside. I'm not really meant to leave the hall or let anyone see the costume yet."

Harry patted him on the shoulder and Hermione gave him a quick, one-armed hug. Just at that moment, however, the door to the Great Hall creaked open and Scarlett popped her head out. Hermione could just see that she was wearing a fancy dress robe of pale gold. But it was the shocked expression on her face that drew Hermione's attention and she quickly stepped away from Ron.

"Ron!" Scarlett hissed, "what are you _doing_ out here? And what is _she_ doing here?" she asked, throwing a nasty look at Hermione.

Hermione knew exactly what was coming, but choose to feign ignorance anyway.

"And why exactly shouldn't I be here?" she asked innocently.

"As if you don't know. I'll have you know that Emma already told the Aurors _all_ about you. I won't get too comfortable here if I were you. I don't expect we'll be seeing you back after the Christmas break," she said with a sneer.

Ron's face was suddenly red and he looked at Scarlett furiously.

"How dare you talk to Hermione like that!?" he cried. "Apologise!"

"No! How can you defend her? She's the Heir of Slytherin!" Scarlett insisted, crossing her arms insolently against her chest.

"Scarlett! I've already told you. Hermione is _not_ the Heir of Slytherin!"

"How can you trust her? How? Practically _everyone_ suspects her!"

"Well, I don't," Ron retorted angrily. "I know she's innocent and I won't stand to hear you talking about her like that!"

By this stage, Scarlett was positively seething and Hermione knew that if looks could kill, not even the necklace around her neck would save her.

"And I can't stand to hear you defending someone who is pure _evil_!"

"Oh, don't worry on that front; I certainly won't be defending _you_ any time soon."

Scarlett looked absolutely scandalised.

"You really are just a stupid, selfish Slytherin, aren't you?" she growled. "Well, I'll tell you what, Ron. It's either me or her! You can't have us both. You make that choice."

"It's a rather easy choice to make, Scarlett," Ron said coldly. "If that's how you feel, then we're through."

"Fine!" she snapped, before turning on her heals and storming away.

Harry and Hermione gaped at Ron with their mouths hanging open.

"Wow, Ron," Harry said after a moment. "Didn't know you had it in you. Good choice, I'd say."

"Oh, _Ron_," Hermione said, bright eyed, and at a loss for words, she gave him another quick hug.

"Yeah, well, she was starting to get annoying anyway," Ron said bashfully.

Ron soon departed back into the Great Hall for last minute preparations and Harry and Hermione returned to the Slytherin common room. Hermione offered to watch the Marauders' map for the rest of the evening, a task which she was volunteering for much more often as of late, as though she hoped to prove her loyalty to Harry and Ron.

When the time came, she and Harry made their way back to the Great Hall. Since they had last been in there for lunch, it had been decorated thoroughly and a large stage had been set up where the teachers' table should have been, but they could not actually see it since thick, velvet curtains hung across it. Small tables had been set up around the hall for the teachers to sit on.

Hermione took her seat by Harry at the Slytherin table and for once, people were not looking at her. Everyone was too excited about the play to bother about her that night and Hermione finally felt like she could sit back and enjoy the play.

At length, Professor Beery stood up and gave a quick and rather animated introduction to the play. His cheeks were flushed with excitement and he kept dropping the hat he was holding in his hand. The only person who looked more nervous than him was Professor Kettleburn, who kept scratching his face anxiously and rubbing his nose. Hermione wondered if he was worried about the giant worm he had provided for the play.

Once Professor Beery had finished his speech, he raised his wand and the curtains flew to the side, revealing the set. Hermione was surprised to see at least twenty students standing on the stage rather than just the four. They were all dressed in old-fashioned clothing, some in robes and other in peasant-style Muggle clothing. At the front of the stage, Scarlett, Bethany, and Emma were standing next to each other, drawing the immediate attention of the crowd. Hermione could see Ron in a distance by the gate into the garden, seated and looking hopeless and miserable. A seventh year Hufflepuff boy stood by the edge of the stage dressed as a nobleman and started to narrate the story. He explained that the people had gather at this spot in the hope that they would be chosen to enter the garden and be allowed to bathe in the waters of the Fountain and Fair Fortune. Once he was done, Bethany stepped forward and spoke to Emma and Scarlett.

"My name is Asha, and I have been struck by an illness that even the most talented of healers could not heal," she said, her expression sorrowful. "I hope that the Fountain may finally cure me of this burden. What has brought you here, my fair maidens?"

Emma stepped forward next and declared, "An evil sorcerer has robbed me of my home and of my gold and wand. I hope that the Fountain of Fair Fortune will relieve me of my poverty and restore to me what is rightfully mine."

"And I," said Scarlett, "have had my heart torn to pieces by a man who I loved like no other. I hope only that the Fountain might restore my aching heart."

And so the three went on in this vain, consoling each other and vowing that they will help each other in their quest. Then, a trumpet was blown, and all the students on stage gathered around the gate. The gate opened slowly, and a number of creepers vines snacked out of the garden and wrapped themselves around Bethany. Bethany let out a cry of joy and wrapped her arms around Emma's waist, who in turn clung to Scarlett. And the vines tugged the witches forward into the garden and blocked off all the others who tried to get in, but as the three witches were dragged away, Scarlett's robe caught on the belt of Ron, and he was dragged in with them.

The curtains fell but opened again barely a minute later, silencing the students who had taken the chance to start their gossip about the actors. The scene had changed. Now, only the four students were left onstage and the hill that Dumbledore had designed appeared before them. The hill was so high that they could not see its top for it was covered by the curtain, but Hermione knew from seeing it previously that it extended so high that it only just missed touching the high ceiling.

After much arguing about what should be done with Ron – who introduced himself as a Muggle known as Sir Luckless because of his dismal fortunes – the three witches decide that he would have to come with them. So they made their way up the hill in search of the Fountain. Just as Professor Dumbledore had explained, the hill sunk into the ground as they walked, though the top did not get any nearer. Soon, the four were confronted by a giant worm.

Professor Kettleburn did not disappoint. Although Hermione thought that the worm looked more like a snake than anything else, it was enormous and definitely fearsome. It was painfully obvious that the fear in the faces of the four actors was real at that moment, and Hermione was sure she even heard Ron swear, but they composed themselves and the "worm" behaved as Professor Kettleburn had promised – when Asha shed her tears, the creature slithered back under the stage.

The play continued as the four made their way up the hill and passed more obstacles. Hermione had to admit that the four were doing a brilliant job at acting. And she was especially proud of Ron, who masterfully overcame his stage fright – though Hermione knew the potion Professor Beery provided had much to do with it.

At length they came to the Fountain of Fair Fortune at the top of the hill. The three witches, who had all had their problems fixed for them in the course of the climb, all turned to Ron and declared that he should be the one to bathe. And so he did, and when he stepped out of the water, he turned to look at Bethany, who played Asha.

It was then that Hermione realised something was wrong. Sir Luckless was meant to propose to Amata – played by Scarlett – after bathing, but Ron was not even looking at her. The expressions on the faces of the three witches became suddenly fixed, and Hermione could see that Professor Beery looked as though he were about to have a heart attack.

"Dearest Asha!" Ron declared. "You are the most beautiful and lovely woman I have ever met! Would you be so kind as to allow me to take your hand in marriage?"

From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Professor Beery fall out of his chair, but no one paid him any attention because at that moment, a terrible explosion echoed through the hall and the stage was suddenly on fire. Hermione immediately realised what had happened – the giant worm was not a worm at all. It was an Ashwinder. The creature, which only lives for an hour, must have laid its eggs under the stage. Most unfortunately for Professor Kettleburn, whose job was now most certainly at stake, Ashwinder eggs are highly flammable and should never be kept near wood. And now the wooden stage was on fire.

Remarkably, however, confused students had jumped to their feet and the staff were already sprinting towards the stage. Scarlett turned angrily on Ron and Bethany and started swearing at them, which enraged Bethany so much that she shot a hex in retaliation. She missed, but Scarlett needed little encouragement and she shot a hex back at her, and soon the two were dueling fiercely. Emma was yelling at them to stop while Ron – rather wisely – sprinted off the burning stage.

Hermione could not help but laugh. She laughed even harder as Professor Beery, who was almost in tears, ran onto the stage and started yelling at the girls to stop fighting only to be hit by a wayward curse. Her laughter was cut short, however, as another explosion shook the stage and the curtain caught on fire. Students were screaming now, and the few teachers who were not already fighting to control the blaze were shouting orders at students to evacuate the hall in an orderly fashion. Naturally, no one took any heed of them and Hermione felt herself being pushed around by students running frantically to the door.

It took a while, but she finally managed to escape from the Great Hall, her throat sore from all the smoke she had inhaled. She had lost Harry, however, and as she tried to push her way through the crowded Entrance Hall in search of him, she heard her name being called.

She turned around and saw Professor Dumbledore standing at the edge of the crowd and beckoning her forward. Confused and apprehensive, she made her way towards him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Miss Jean," he said solemnly, "I'd like to see you in my office, please. The Aurors have requested to interview you."

* * *

**A/N** - I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Also, a big thanks to my betas Serpent In Red and Hajnalmadar. They've been of great help through out this story. I started uni a few days ago, and since I'm doing 9-5 pretty much every day, I'm exhausted by the time I got home and just don't have much time to write. But as I mentioned previously, I'll still try to get one chapter out here every two weeks. If I expect delays, I'll leave a message on my profile as well as some info on when I expect the next update to be ready. Until then. :)


	19. The Interrogation

**Chapter 19**

Albus Dumbledore watched as the blood drained from the girl's face. She stared at him in shock, but she maintained her composure.

"Shouldn't – shouldn't you be helping in the Great Hall, sir?" she asked, looking confused. "The fire –"

"I'm sure they will manage without me," he replied calmly. "At any rate, this is out of my hand. I was able to delay the interview until after the play, but they will not wait any longer. Now, if you would come with me, please."

Hermione stared at him for a moment before nodding her head bleakly and following him. It was a silent walk to his office and he wondered himself what would come out of the interview. He suspected the girl, but he doubted she was working alone. It only made sense that Tom was part of the plot as well. The important question, however, was who was the leader? Who was actually the Heir of Slytherin?

When he entered his office, he found the three Ministry officials either seated or standing exactly where he had left them. He noticed Hermione looking at them apprehensively. He could hardly blame her. The main interrogator, Auror Pollux Purcell, was a rather formidable-looking man in his mid-fifties with stern black eyes that seemed to pierce through a person's very soul. Presently, he was seated in one of the armchairs across from Albus's desk, looking rather stiff and intimidating. Although he would never admit it, Albus had very little respect for the man.

Standing on Purcell's either side were two junior Aurors in their early twenties who Albus had had the pleasure of teaching: on his left stood Charlus Withers, a rather bright though gangly and awkward Gryffindor student, and Edmund Arkwright, a significantly burlier and very determined Ravenclaw student.

"Gentlemen, may I introduce Miss Hermione Jean?" Albus said as he had closed the door behind them.

Purcell proceeded to examine Hermione, who, under the scrutiny, stood tall and proud, even if her pale complexion betrayed her.

"So, this is our prime suspect then, is it?" Purcell drawled. "Right, well, we don't have all day. Take a seat, please."

Albus frowned at the rude welcome and, feeling sorry for the girl, indicated kindly for her to take her seat. He knew the main reason Purcell was so lacking in manners at the moment was because he strongly suspected Hermione of being the Heir. As much as Albus suspected Hermione, she was innocent until proven guilty and so he treated her that way. Unfortunately, he had been unable to sway Purcell to act the same.

As though purposely going against Albus's advice, Purcell had insisted on a Ministry-style interrogation set-up and so a chair had been provided for the suspect. It was located opposite Purcell's own larger (and rather more comfortable-looking) armchair, behind which a small table had been set up. It was covered in papers and other such devices. There was nothing between the interrogator and the person being interrogated.

Hermione looked at the chair unsurely, but sat down all the same, looking apprehensively at her interrogator while Albus took a seat in his chair behind his desk.

"Right, then," began Purcell briskly, "let's start with the basics. Charlus, are you getting this?"

"Yes, sir," Charlus replied, a clipboard in one hand and a quill ready in the other.

"What is your name?" Purcell asked Hermione, his tone rather harsher than Albus thought necessary.

"Hermione Jean," she replied calmly, as though his tone had been lost upon her.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen years old."

"What knowledge do you have of the recent attacks at this school?" Purcell asked, his eyes piercing into hers sharply.

"No knowledge, sir," she replied confidently and calmly. "That is, I know nothing more than what anyone else knows. Students have been turning up Petrified and it is believed to be the work of the Heir of Slytherin."

"And you are not responsible for these attacks?"

If Hermione had been taken aback by the forwardness of the question, she did not show it.

"No," she said firmly.

"And you do not know _who_ is responsible for these attacks?" he asked.

"No."

"Do you know where the Chamber is?"

"No."

"You are not the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Of course not. I could never be the _Heir_ of Slyethrin," she stated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, and why is that?" Purcell replied, his eyebrows raised mockingly.

"Because the _Heir_ of Slytherin could only be a _male_. I, as a female, could only be the _Heiress_," she replied.

Albus could not help but chuckle softly at her wit and the corner of her mouth twitched as though she, too, wanted to smile.

Purcell, however, was not amused and gave her a look that could have boiled brass.

"I suppose you think this is funny?" he growled, his fist clenched tightly.

"Of course not," she said quietly. "However, I do you think you are wasting your time interviewing me."

"Very well, Miss Jean," Purcell said smoothly, sitting back in his seat. "If you are such a useless person to interrogate, can you please explain why the very first attack happened on the same day you arrived at this school? Or why the second victim happened to be a girl who had publicly humiliated you barely a day before she was found Petrified?" he fired, his voice growing angrier and angrier by the question. "And I suppose it was just a coincidence that your third victim happened to be the very same girl who you witnessed, with your own eyes, flirting with your ex-boyfriend?"

Albus watch her carefully, knowing that her interrogator had just made what was perhaps his strongest case against her, as he had not mentioned his own suspicions to the Aurors yet, having preferred to wait and see what might come of the interview. Hermione simply looked back at him in shock and Albus did not know what to make of the expression. Was it the face of an innocent accused of great wrong or that of a guilty person realising their exposure?

"A coincidence," she stated boldly. "It was a coincidence. I didn't Petrify them. I wouldn't know how. I'm a half-blood myself."

"Yes, you see, Miss Jean, the _thing_ about that is we would need some proof of what you claim. And even if you had the proof, it would not be enough."

"And why would that be?" Hermione asked calmly, though Albus could see that she was worried.

"Because you have already been exposed as a _liar_," Purcell said coldly.

Hermione froze, her expression became suddenly fixed and it appeared that she would not dare to speak a word. Albus, too, was intrigued. He had not been made aware of any such information.

"You provided the Headmaster with documents that suggested that you had received _twelve_ OWL's, _eleven_ of them at the Outstanding level. And yet neither hair nor hide of your name or your results could be found anywhere in the documents of the Department of Education. Are you aware, Miss Jean, that such a fabrication, is _against the law_?"

Albus was shocked, firstly, at the news of the fabrication, but even more so at the fact that he had not thought to confirm the existence of the documents for himself. His reaction, however, was nothing compared to the girl's. Her confident expression disappeared and her hands were visibly trembling. Her face paled drastically. Though she did not reply, her face betrayed great apprehension.

"Do you deny this?" Purcell demanded, leaning forward, his expression very hard.

Still, the girl said nothing.

"Very well. Edmund," Purcell snapped impatiently, holding out an arm. "The Veritaserum."

Albus turned his head sharply at Edmund and was shocked to see him reach for a vile containing clear liquid from the table behind Purcell's armchair. His eyes darted back to Hermione and for the first time that evening her eyes betrayed what Albus could only describe as fear.

"You – you can't!" she stumered, jumping up from her seat. "You can't use that – it's illegal!"

"So you've heard of Veritaserum, have you? Good, I won't have to explain that it's the most power truth serum known to Wizard kind."

"It's illegal," she repeated, sounding outraged.

Albus, though extremely intrigued by the girl's fear (which he could only explain by her guilt) had to agree with her assessment.

"I'm afraid Miss Jean is correct, Pollux," Albus said, frowning. "The use of Veritaserum is illegal and certainly not considered standard use in interrogations."

"Be that as it may," Purcell drawled, "I have special permission from the Minister himself to use it in this case. Edmund, show him the signed letter of approval."

Edmund picked up a letter from the table and gave it to Albus, who read through its brief contents quickly. He sighed.

"In that case, Pollux, I need not tell you to ask your questions wisely," Albus said gravely.

"Indeed. Edmund, administer the potion."

"No," Hermione said suddenly, shaking her head firmly and crossing her arms across her chest. "No, I refuse to drink it. You have no right."

Purcell's pursed his lips and glared at her.

"Edmund, the drink!" he said sharply.

Edmund, who had added the Veritaserum to a glass of water, stepped forward and held the glass for Hermione to take. She refused, shaking her head even more vigorously and taking a few quick steps away from him.

"You have no right," she repeated, taking another step backwards as Edmund stepped forward. "You can't justify this. You'd have to arrest me first and force me to drink the potion at the Ministry itself. That's the law!"

"Give her the drink, Edmund!" Purcell said impatiently.

Edmund took a few more resolute steps towards her, forcing Hermione to take another step backwards, until she bumped right into the office door and could step backwards no more. She cast a quick, worried look at the wall behind her before looking apprehensively at Edmund, who held out the drink to her once more. She stared at it miserably and in fear, but slowly, very slowly, held out a hand to take. All eyes were on her hand as she wrapped her fingers around the glass and took it from Edmund's hand. It was just then that Albus noticed her _other_ hand – it was clasped on the door handle. But before he could say anything, Hermione opened the door and, at the same moment, splashed the water into Edmund's face. She allowed the glass fall to the ground and break while escaping out of the office and running out into the corridor.

It all happened so quickly that Albus hardly had time to react. Purcell jumped out of his chair and let out a cry of outrage, but it was Edmund, infuriated by the personal attack, who sprinted after her into the corridor. By the time Albus was at the door, Edmund, who was much larger, stronger, and faster than Hermione, already had the struggling girl pinned on to the floor, her left arm held painfully behind her back and his wand pressing into her neck.

Hermione let out a cry of pain as Edmund pinned her arm against her back.

"Edmund," Albus said severely. "You will release your grip on her arm and allow her to stand _immediately_."

"I believe I'm the one giving orders here, Dumbledore," Purcell objected coldly, having just joined them in the corridor.

"However, Miss Jean remains a student at this school and as such, I insisted she will be treated with respect," Albus replied. "You cannot blame her for wishing to escape from the threat of Veristaserum. Innocent until proven guilty, Pollux."

Purcell did not reply, but the corner of his mouth twitched in annoyance.

"Edmund, escort the girl back to her seat. Bind her legs magically, unless of course, our dear Professor has an objection," he added, looking over at Albus in contempt.

"None whatsoever," Albus said calmly.

Hermione tried to struggle as Edmund directed her roughly back to her seat, but the older man easily overpowered her. Albus saw that she had tears in her eyes – he assumed it was from the pain, but he could not be sure – and still wore the same fearful expression. She spared a quick glance in his direction as she walked past him, meeting his gaze for a second before looking away in shame. Albus could only look grimly back.

Once she had been magically secured into the chair and everyone had once again resumed their places, Edmund gave her another glass of water which contained five drops of Veritaserum. It was more than was needed, but Purcell had insisted on it for precaution. She refused to take the glass, choosing instead to stare at the wall behind Purcell and ignore the glass.

Purcell was not impressed.

"Young lady, these antics will _not_ help you," he growled. "We can force you to drink it if it comes to that."

Hermione glared at him angrily before shaking her head. Purcell replied by nodding his head at Edmund who nodded back grimly. With a flick of his wand, the water shot out of the glass and into Hermione's mouth, and the only thing that prevented her from spitting it out or even choking on it was the spell Purcell had used to force her to swallow. And she did swallow, but not without casting the most loathsome glare at her interrogator.

"Now," Purcell said slowly, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face. "What is your name?"

The girl blinked at him before saying slowly, as though she regretted it, "Hermione."

Purcell's smirk was immediately wiped of his face and Albus could not help but betray a small smile.

"Your full name," he growled. "Including any middle names and surnames."

Hermione swallowed deeply before saying, "Hermione Jean G-Granger."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she bit her lips fiercely and scrunched up her eyes in regret. Albus sat up straighter.

_This is new. _

"Aha!" Purcell said, leaning forward in his seat triumphantly. "So she has been hiding something after all! Did you get that note, Charlus?"

Charlus, who was writing furiously in his attempt to keep up, his tongue between his lips, simply muttered, "Yes, sir," without looking up as he continued.

"Did you receive 12 OWL's?"

"Yes."

"Was the document you produced a forgery?"

"Yes," she admitted, looking shame-faced.

"Tsk, tsk. Charlus, make a note. We'll need to look up her real OWL results with the fresh name she's given. And now, the real questions," Purcell said greedily. "Did you open the Chamber of Secrets?"

"No," she insisted, looking somewhat relieved, before adding quickly, "Do you believe me now? Can I go?"

Albus was taken aback by her answer. With all the resistance, he had been expecting the answer to be a resounding _yes_.

"What do you mean _no_?" Purcell snarled.

"I mean no, I did not open the Chamber," she replied calmly.

"So you aren't the Heir of Slytherin?" he asked incredulously.

"No."

"Are you the _Heiress_ of Slytherin?"

"_No._"

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" cried Purcell. "Do you know who the Heir of Slytherin is?"

At that moment, Hermione looked more fearful than she had appeared all evening, her hands beginning to tremble again, her eyes grew wide in horror as she whispered her reply.

"Yes."

Purcell's anger faded instantly, only to be a replaced by a look of greedy triumph.

"Excellent. Who is it? Tell me now!"

Albus, too, leaned in to listen, his ears fully expecting to hear the name Tom Riddle.

For a moment, Hermione seemed to struggled against herself, but it was futile. The Veristaserum won over as she must have known it would and she said weakly, "_Voldemort_."

Albus blinked before frowning in confusion.

"Who on earth is Voldemort?" Purcell asked incredulously, voicing Albus's own query.

"A Wizard," she replied vaguely.

Albus's frown deepened, noticing that her responses were much vaguer than they should have been when under the influence of Veritaserum.

"I know he's a Wizard!" spat Purcell. "But who is he?"

"He's the Heir of Slytherin," she replied quietly.

"Foolish child. I'll have you charged for hindering the path of justice, you mark my word. What is this Voldemort's _full name_!" he snarled.

"_Lord_ Voldemort," she replied apprehensively, as though worried that Purcell was going to follow up the question with a more specific one.

Purcell, however, seemed too infuriated with the vague answers and changed his line of questioning.

"Did this Lord Voldemort tell you where the Chamber of Secrets is?" he asked scornfully.

"No," she replied, shaking her head.

"Did he_ show_ you?"

"No."

"Do you know where the Chamber of Secrets is?" he demanded.

"Yes," Hermione replied, before clasping her hands across her mouth in horror.

"Aha! Finally! An admission! Get this down, Charlus, get this down!" Purcell cried fanatically, jumping to his feet. "What is the exact location of the Chamber of Secrets?"

Hermione struggled again, but once more was unable to resist.

"Underground," she replied, once again managing to avoid a specific answer.

Albus could not understand how she managed to answer so vaguely after five drops of Veritaserum. Such a large dose left no room for resistance. Unless… and then it struck him.

_Could the Founders' Necklace be helping her?_

"Answer me properly, you insufferable wretch!" Purcell shouted, losing control.

Hermione leaned back into her chair fearfully, while Albus jumped up from his seat.

"Pollux," he snapped angrily. "That is no way to speak to a young woman. Control yourself!"

Purcelll looked at Albus before drawing himself to his full height.

"My apologies, I have forgotten myself," he said, not looking the least bit sorry. He turned to the girl and said, in a controlled voice that did not disguise his anger, "How did you find out the location of the Chamber of Secrets if this Voldemort did not tell you?"

Hermione paled again, significantly.

"I – I was told," she said, her voice breaking.

"And _who_ told you?"

She closed her eyes fearfully before saying, "The Headmaster."

There was an astonished silence following this admission. Purcell seemed to be too lost for words to speak.

"Headmaster Dippet? He told you?" Albus asked, unable to keep himself from sounding too incredulous.

"No," she replied, her eyes still closed.

"Then who was it? What was his name? His _full_ name?" Albus asked quickly.

Hermione opened her eyes, allowing them to meet Albus's. He saw they were full of fear and regret and she looked at him imploringly, as though asking for forgiveness.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she whispered, tears flooding her eyes.

Albus stared at the girl in astonishment, his gaze proving too much for her for she promptly looked away from him, a blush rising to her cheeks.

_Impossible… and yet she couldn't possibly have lied… and she called me Headmaster… _

Then he remembered what she had said about her OWL's. And it hit. The Founders' Necklace, one of its rumoured powers –

_She's a time traveler._

"Preposterous!" stuttered Purcell, looking absolutely flabbergasted. "Albus _Dumbledore_? He's not even the Headmaster! She's making a mockery of us. Edmund, you dunderhead, you must not have added the Veritaserum properly!"

"No, sir," Edmund said, looking affronted. "I assure you I did!"

"Nonsense! I command you to prepare another cup his instance! And you will review all the instructions first!" Purcell snapped before marching towards the table behind his desk. He was shortly joined by Edmund, as well as Charlus, who was still scribbling down the events that had occurred. Albus walked across to the desk as well and pretended to watch ever Purcell's shoulder. Instead, his eyes wandered to a mirror on the wall before him that gave him a full view of Hermione and he examined her while she thought no one was watching.

Her tearful eyes watched them astutely while she slipped her left arm into her pocket, producing a small object. He was not sure what it was, but he saw it was made of gold. She held it to her lips and blew softly, but making no sound. Albus watched curiously, his own wand now in hand for precaution, as she pulled her wand out of her pocket and tapped the object once. Reading her lips, he recognized the word _Portus_.

He frowned. If she was trying to make a Portkey, then it did not work, and she surely must have known only the Headmaster had the power to make Portkeys work in Hogwarts. However, she looked at the object in confusion before a look of realization spread across her face.

"_Riddle_," she mouth noiselessly before tapping the object again. Instantly, it turned into a piece of parchment.

Furiously, she shoved the parchment into her pocket before closing her eyes and concentrating hard, her right hand extended in front of her. Suddenly, a gold object appeared in her hand and before she snapped her fingers shut around it, Albus recognized it.

_The Whistle of Gryffindor._

His eyes grew wide in shock as he remembered that only the purest of hearts can own it… and she had summoned it. Perhaps she was innocent afterall…

With a look of deep satisfaction, Hermione lifted the whistle to her lips and blew, but again no sound was made. Only somewhat dismayed, she raised her wand again and was just about to tap it when –

"Hey!" cried Charlus, looking over at Hermione in surprise. "What are you doing?"

Albus spun around on his spot, as did Purcell and Edmund.

Hermione's head snapped up and she looked at them in shock, but she was quicker than anyone else. She tapped her wand on the whistle, muttered a hurried _Portus_, and barely a second later, was gone.

* * *

**A/N** - sorry about the delay! Hope that was worth it though! Thanks to my betas, Hajnalmadar and Serpent in Red!


	20. Godric Gryffindor

**Summary**** of the last few chapters** (for those who have forgotten!): After Andrea was found petrified, the general student body suspects Hermione of being the Heir of Slytherin. The play went ahead as planned and resulted in disaster, the Hall caught on fire, the Aurors decided to take the chance to interrogate Hermione as they think she is the Heir of Slytherin. From Dumbledore's PoV, we see that, with the help of the Veritaserum, Hermione lets slip more than she had hoped, but before the Aurors could get anything substantial out of her, she vanished with the help of the Whistle of Gryffindor.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

Hermione landed painfully on the hard, carpeted floor. The Whistle had worked – she was now safe, hidden in the brightly lit room that was no doubt Godric's own Secret Chamber. It had brought her there safely, just as the inscription had said it would.

Rather than paying the room due respect for housing her, she promptly turned to her side and emptied the entire contents of the her stomach, partly because it had been a rough journey, partly because of her nerves, and partly to get rid of any of the Veritaserum that had not yet been absorbed into her blood.

She took a moment to recover her strength and to clean the mess, but once she did, she no longer had anything to distract her from her thoughts.

She had spoken. She had broken the most fundamental time travel law, and, ironically, it was the law enforcers themselves who had forced her. Hermione was terrified.

_But they didn't manage. They couldn't find out everything. The potion didn't work._

Of course, Hermione had realised fairly early on that the truth potion had not worked as well as it was meant to. At first she had thought it was a mistake, that they had added the wrong potion or that they had not added enough. But as soon as she felt the necklace grow warm against her skin she knew the truth. The necklace was helping her, allowing her to fight off most of the potion's effects, to give half answers and twist the truth rather than answer directly.

And yet it had not been enough, she realised as her stomach churned a second time and her anxiety increased. It had not been enough: she had spoken and exposed that she knew where the Chamber was located, and that it was Dumbledore himself who told her. They would not believe the latter, of course. They would think that she was fooling them, but she could not go back now. She had told them enough to justify an arrest.

Hermione clenched her fists in frustration and it was then that she realised she was still holding the Whistle. She shoved it back into her pocket, angry that help had not come when she had blown it, but very grateful that its magic was strong enough to break through the barriers at Hogwarts. But, of course, the real reason she wanted it out of her sight was because it reminded her of Riddle. How he had managed to steal it from her and create such a prefect replica of it, she did not know. It frustrated her to know that he had fooled her, but she felt a small speck of pride at that fact that she had been able to summon it away from him. She only wished she could see the shock and anger on his face when he realised it was gone.

She sighed loudly, wondering what she was going to do. She could not go back – they would be on the look out for her. She would not be surprised if the whole school was being search already. But she could not stay away, Harry and Ron would be wondering –

"Harry and Ron!" Hermione gasped, jumping to her feet.

A terrible thought occurred to her – what if they try interrogating them? What if they give them Veritaserum?

_They don't have the necklace to help them. They'd be exposed!_

She knew that instant she had to go back and warn Harry and Ron. She had only been gone a minute or two, so they could not have found Harry or Ron yet, especially not with the confusion caused by the fire. Not only that, but she had the map, so she would know exactly where to find them. She would find them and they would all have to leave together before they were caught.

The prospects were grim, but they had no other choice, so she took out the map and her eyes roamed across it in search for either one of her friends. She found Harry first. He was seated in the common room, but Ron was not with him. Just as she was searching the Entrance Hall, where a number of students were still gathered, the movement of a bright red dot caught her attention. She saw Riddle walking very quickly along a corridor, but he was not alone. To her astonishment, she saw that Ron was walking by his side.

For a moment, she simply stared at the spot, stunned. Since when could Riddle and Ron stand each other long enough to be in each other's company? And what reason could they possibly have to wander away from everyone else, together? But it was when they stopped outside a bathroom that Hermione almost dropped the map in shock.

_Moaning Myrtle's bathroom._

Barely a moment later, Ron disappeared from the map, with Riddle following after him.

Hermione felt her hands trembling as she realised what must have happened. Ron had gone into the Chamber of Secrets with Riddle. There was no way that Riddle had just decided to let Ron in on his secret and an even smaller chance that Ron would have gone with him willingly. Which left only one possibility – Riddle had incapacitated Ron in some way and forced him into the Chamber. But to do what, she did not know, nor did she _want_ to know, knowing what had almost happened when Ginny was taken into the Chamber. What she did know was that she had to save him. She had to save Ron. And for that she needed Harry.

Hermione shoved the map away into her pocket and looked quickly around the room, not quite sure how to get out. She decided that Apparating was her best chance and so she Disillusioned herself and, a moment later, she found herself in the dimly lit streets of Hogsmeade, just in front of the Honeydukes of the forties. Not surprisingly, it was closed and the lights were turned off. Hermione considered her options for a moment. Breaking in was risky and likely to draw attention to her location or possibly end up with her being caught. But even if she was not caught, it would take her a very long time to reach the castle – time she did not have. Every second she wasted meant a second less for Ron…

Just then, however, she noticed a number of men running down the street in her direction. She stepped away from the sidewalk and into the shadows just as the men drew close enough for her to realise that they were Aurors. They did not seem to see her, however, and ran past her, their eyes fixed on the Post Office.

"Hurry up, men!" shouted the foremost one of the four. "She'll have gotten away soon!"

Terrified, Hermione wanted to remain in the shadows until they were completely out of view. However, a nagging suspicion forced her to follow them to the Post Office. Fortunately, apart from those Aurors, the streets of Hogsmeade were empty. So she crept forward in the shadows, still Disillusioned, until she reached the windows of the Post Office and was able to peak inside. The windows had been opened, giving Hermione a good view of what was happening inside as well as allowing her to hear.

Just as she suspected, the Aurors were lined up in front of the fire place. An old man wearing a monocle who Hermione recognised as Jeffery stood next to them holding a jar of Floo powder. The first Auror in line took a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fire before stepping in and saying just loudly enough for Hermione to hear from outside, "Dumbledore's Office!"

One by one they all followed him, until at last there was only one man left.

"Now remember," he said to Jeffery, "you're to make sure that the connection is closed _immediately_ after I'm gone. And no one other than Ministry personnel are allowed through. Understood?"

"Yes, yes, I've been doing this job since the times you were still in nappies! Now on with you," Jeffery said impatiently.

The Auror looked taken aback but did not say anything as he took a handful of

Floo powder and, a moment later, he, too, was gone. Hermione did not waste a second. Her wand had been held up through the window before the last Auror had stepped into the fire and as soon as he had vanished, she cast a silent Stunning spell on Jeffery. She felt guilty as she watched him fall to the floor, the bowl containing the Floo powder smashing on the stone floor and covering the man's clothing.

There was no time to dwell on her guilt, however, and she rushed into the Post Office while taking out the map. She saw that the Aurors all seemed to be gathered in Dumbledore's office, as well as Headmaster Dippet, who had no doubt been summoned as soon as the situation had escalated. However, Hermione knew what she needed was to find a room as close as possible to the Slytherin Common Room to Apparate into. The common room itself was obviously not an option; it was packed with students. After seeing that Professor Slughorn was busy in the Great Hall, she settled on his office before throwing the Floo powder into the fireplace and jumping in, saying clearly in a rather panicked voice, "Slughorn's Office."

The familiar sucking sensation came quickly. Hermione closed her eyes and braced herself for the trip. However, it was over much sooner than she'd expected. She opened her eyes and saw to her shock that she was still in the Post Office fireplace.

Again, she repeated the words and again she felt the short lasting sensation, but she had not moved. She soon realised that it was not working, that only a select number of fireplaces must have been activated…

She started to panic again and looked back at the map. Dumbledore's office was still occupied with no less than eight Aurors. Another idea occurred to her, however. Surely the Headmaster's office would have been activated as well? She quickly checked the Headmaster's office and, to her immense relief, found that it was empty.

"Dippet's Office!" she said and immediately she felt the full strength sensation that she associated with Flooing. A moment later, the Headmaster's office materialised before her eyes and she fell out of the grate, landing hard on her already bruised side.

She jumped up quickly, not bothering to brush off the soot from her clothes and ignoring the cries of "Oh, I say!" from the confused portraits. She lunged at the door and threw it open before running down the spiral staircase and jumping out into the corridor from behind the statues of the Gargoyles. She ran through the corridor, the map in one hand and her wand held high in the other. She knew that in the strong lighting of the castle, her Disillusioned state would not do much to conceal her, so she stuck as much as she could to empty corridors. However, this became exceedingly difficult as the Aurors soon left Dumbledore's office and had spread out throughout the castle in search for her. Many times, she had to change her route in order to avoid running head on into an Auror. Unfortunately, she did not prove fast enough and she was halfway to the Slytherin common room when she noticed Harry stepping outside into the corridor with Professor Dumbledore.

She froze, watching the map in shock. She stood there for well over a minute, watching them walk infuriatingly slowly through the corridor, wasting her time and most importantly, Ron's. It was not long before Hermione realised that they were heading towards Dumbledore's office, which the map showed to be presently empty. Thinking quickly, she decided her best plan was to sneak into Dumbledore's office and hide in there before they arrived. Maybe she could sneak up on Harry when Dumbledore was not watching and use the Portkey to get them away… even though it was the best plan she could think of, she knew it was no good, that she was wasting their time.

Fortunately, Hermione was much closer to Dumbledore's office than they were, so by the time she arrived there, she had at least a minute to spare before Dumbledore was dangerously close. She was very pleased to see that the seating arrangement had been changed since she had last been there. The large armchair Purcell had been seated in was now placed right in front of the fireplace. Hermione realised she could easily hide behind it and keep a handful of dust in one hand, ready to throw into the fire if she needed to make a quick escape. But before she could cast any protective charms on and around the chair, she heard pounding footsteps just outside the door. Terrified, she jumped behind the armchair and crouched as low as she could, just in time so that the person who had ran into the room at that moment did not see her.

She heard the person's deep breathes, followed by a curse as he realised that Dumbledore was not in the office. But he did not have to wait long, for Dumbledore's voice rang sharply through the corridor a moment later.

"Charlus?" he said. "Why are you here? I though you were assigned to accompany the Headmaster?"

"Professor!" Charlus cried, and Hermione hear his footsteps leading out of the room. "Professor, yes, I was with him, but he is sending for you immediately – there's a message on a wall from the Heir of Slytherin!"

Hermione almost gasped, but contained herself just in time.

_Ron… _

"What does it say?" Dumbledore asked sharply.

"_By his soul I shall be whole again_," Charlus recited, his words punctured by a shiver.

Hermione found her hands trembling. She had no idea what the message meant, but it did not sound good for Ron.

"Mr. Evans, wait for me in my office," Dumbledore said quickly.

"Sir, I want to go see –" Harry began.

"I'm afraid that is not possible. Now, in my office," Dumbledore insisted sharply. "Charlus, lead the way."

A moment later, she heard two pairs of feet hurrying away down the corridor. She took a chance, peeped out from behind the armchair, and saw Harry standing in the doorway of the office, his eyes presumably following the figures as they hurried away. Hermione knew from his expression that he planned to follow them the instant they had turned a corner. To her surprise, however, Harry stepped into the office and closed the door behind him, but rather than moving further in, he hurriedly slipped his Invisibility Cloak out from his bag.

Excited and relieved, Hermione jumped out from behind the armchair.

"Harry!" she cried.

Harry jumped, startled, his hand flying to his wand. He looked at her, bewildered and squinting, and Hermione remembered that she was still Disillusioned.

"Harry, it's me, Hermione!" she said, before raising her wand and removing the charm.

Harry lowered his wand, looking relieved.

"Hermione! What are you doing in here? And why were you hiding?"

"Oh, Harry, there's no time to explain! The Aurors thought I was the Heir of Slytherin and I had to make a run for it. They're searching the castle for me right now –"

"They _what_?" Harry cried, looking outraged. "How could _they_ possibly think that _you_ –"

"That's not important right now!" she said earnestly, tears springing to her eyes again. "Harry, it's Ron! He needs our help! Riddle took him into the Chamber; I saw it on the map!"

"What?" Harry said, looking dumbfounded. "But – but – are you sure?"

"Positive, Harry! I saw it myself! Ron went in first and then Riddle followed," she said, her voice cracking. "And now, that writing on the wall, he must have something terrible planned!"

"I have to go after him," Harry said quickly.

His face was pale, but he looked determined as he started to throw the cloak over himself.

"I'm coming with you!" Hermione insisted angrily.

"Hermione, it's not safe! The Aurors are after you, you have to hide!"

"I'm safer from them under the cloak and in the Chamber!" she snapped. "At least they can't find me there."

"This is Riddle we're talking about Hermione! He's dangerous!"

"Harry, Ron is my friend too! I'm coming!"

And with that, she grabbed the edge of the cloak and slipped underneath it, pulling it over both of them.

"Well, come on, we're wasting time! Who knows what he could have done to Ron by now!"

Harry, although he looked frustrated, gave in. They made their way out of the office and ran through the corridor with their wands raised, ready to Stun anyone who might come in their way. Hermione cast a Muffling spell so that their footsteps would not be heard, but it was hardly needed – with all the shortcuts they took and the fact that most of the Aurors were probably gathered around the message Riddle had left, they managed not to come across anyone. Fortunately, Dumbledore's office was not far from Myrtle's bathroom and barely a minute had pased by the time they reached it.

Harry was ready to throw open the bathroom door when Hermione stopped him.

"Wait!" she cried, grabbing his arm.

"What?" he said impatiently.

"Let me check the map; the basilisk might have been set loose in there."

Hermione hurriedly pulled out the map and scanned the bathroom and surrounding areas on it, and fortunately there was nothing there. But the map would be of no use in the Chamber, so she hastily transfigured a pair of glasses for herself out of the pencil Riddle has used to replace her Whistle.

"Can we go in now?" Harry asked urgently.

"Yes, come on."

He opened the door and they hurried inside, throwing off the cloak as soon as the door was closed behind them.

"Stand back. It's this sink," Harry said, as he leaned over the one tap that had never worked.

He looked at the carving of the snake carefully and Hermione knew he was focusing, trying to make it look as real as possible. A moment later, he spoke, but instead of English words, an odd hissing sound escaped his lips. It sounded terrible and sent a shiver down her spine.

Instantly, the tap flashed white and the whole basin started to sink into the floor, exposing a wide, filthy pipe.

Hermione had heard the full account of how the Chamber was opened, but having never seen it before. She found the moment both awe-inspiring and terrifying. They were about to enter the Chamber of Secrets – the home of the very basilisk that had petrified her in her second year. They were about to face Riddle.

"Ready?" Harry asked grimly, looking over at her.

Of course she was not. It did not help that the image of the basilisk kept creeping back to her, the memory still fresh in her mind even though it had been many years since she last saw it. Nor did it help that a part of her kept reminding herself that it was impossible to change the parts of the timeline that they already knew – and that meant that Riddle must come out of the Chamber alive, probably unharmed, as well as the basilisk. And that did not leave much hope for the three of them. But she had to be strong. For Ron.

She nodded to Harry and he stepped towards the pipe.

"I'll go first… wait a bit before you follow," he said bravely, before slipping into the pipe and disappearing from view.

Hermione arms shook as she waited, terrible thoughts flashing through her mind, images of Ron lying dead in the Chamber or Harry landing in the tunnel, only to find the basilisk waiting for him. She took a deep breath and followed Harry into the tunnel. She saw that the bottom was considerable less filthy than the rest, the slime having already been collected by the robes of the three boys who had slid down before her.

She closed her eyes and let herself go, forcing herself to imagine that it was just another water slide at a water park. But water slides were wet, not slimy, and they didn't have turns quite as sharp or painful as the pipe did. Soon, however, she started to slow and she realised that the pipe was not as steep as it had been initially, and before she realised what was happening, she shot out of the end of the pipe, only to land painfully on her already bruised side.

"Are you okay?" she heard Harry ask anxiously from her side. He held out a rather slimly hand which she accepted and he helped her to her feet.

"Is – is this it? Is this the right place?" she asked, looking around the dark, wet, stone tunnel. Harry's wand was the only source of light and, not liking the darkness at all, Hermione lit her own.

"This is it," Harry said, looking around in distaste. "I can't say I'm glad to see it again, though… come on, let's go, it's a bit of a walk. Here, put the cloak on, just in case."

Before they slipped into the cloak, however, Hermione quickly cleaned away the slime that had stuck to them. It was disgusting and, though Harry thought she was wasting time, she knew it would hinder them when it came to saving Ron. It was not worth risking it.

And so, with the protection that the cloak provided (which, admittedly, would do little against the basilisk, which would be able to find them by their smell as well as through listening for vibrations in the ground), they made their way forward at a run, eyes always peeled for signs of movement, ready to be snapped shut. But they did not come across anything as they hurried forward. Soon, they turned a corner and the tunnel came to an end. A solid wall stood before them on which two entwined snakes had been carved. Hermione knew that it was the only barrier between them and Riddle.

Harry look at her and she knew from the fear in his eyes that he dreaded what they would find. Whether Ron would be alive…

Grimly, Harry faced the snakes and spoke again in Parseltongue. Hermione's mouth was as dry as parchment as she watched the wall crack along the middle, separating the two snakes. The two parts of the wall slowly slid apart, revealing the Chamber Ginny had so often described to her. It was very long and, unlike how Ginny had described it, it was very well lit, surprisingly so for a stone Chamber. On either side stood many columns into which many more snakes were carved, supporting the incredibly high ceiling. But she could not see anyone, not yet.

Harry raised a finger to his lips and very quietly, they slipped into the Chamber and maneuvred through the pillars towards the wall on their right side. Slowly, they inched closer to the end of the hall, but they came to a dead stop after only a moment when the sound of footsteps echoes harshly in the otherwise silent chamber. They froze, both holding their breath and watched as a tall, male figure appeared from the far end of the Chamber. He soon came close enough for them to make out his face.

And nothing could have prepared Hermione for what she saw.

* * *

**A/N** - sorry about the delay! Hopefully the next chapter will be up in about two weeks! If its not up by fourteen days I'll post a message on my profile. Thanks again to my great betas, Serpent In Red and Hajnalmadar! Oh, and er, sorry about the cliffhanger!


	21. The Chamber of Secrets

**Chapter 21**

It was not Riddle. It was not even Ron. She did not know who he was, but she wondered whether he was human at all. He could not be a real person. A shadow, maybe. Hermione could see that he was severely blurred around the edges, making his features hard to grasp. Tall and thin as he was, he did not look too old, but he was not very young either. It was oddly difficult to put an age to him. After a while, Hermione had to look away. It was hard on her eyes to focus on his blurry features.

Instead she looked at Harry, who was looking at the blurred man with a kind of shock and, oddly enough, recognition.

"What is it?" Hermione mouthed carefully.

Harry answered, but he never took his eyes of the man.

"He – he's a memory," he mouthed back. "He's blurry, just like Riddle was when he tried to – to –"

Harry stuttered, his face turning pale and his eyes finally snapping away from the man and landing on hers. They were filled with horror and Hermione was quick to understand why.

Hermione turned sharply to look at the man who had just stopped by the entrance. To her horror, she realised that the man was slowly, very slowly, becoming less blurry.

"Ron," she whispered silently.

"We have to find him!" said Harry urgently, just loud enough for her to hear. "He – he's taking Ron's life, just like Riddle tried to do to Ginny! He's going to kill him!"

"But who is he?" Hermione whispered frantically. "And what does Riddle have to do with this? It doesn't make sense! If he's a memory, that means – that means there must be a _Horcrux_ involved, but _whose_?"

"That doesn't matter now. We have to get to Ron! Come on!"

Harry threw a careful glance at the man who was now standing by the doorway, examining it carefully but not moving. Hermione had the impression that he was a man of great power.

Carefully and slowly, with their breathes held, they made their way across the Chamber until a large statue come into view at the far end of the room. Hermione immediately recognised the monkey-like face of Salazar Slytherin. And there at the foot of the statue was Ron, still dressed in his costume, covered in slime, but, to Hermione's immense relief, unhurt. His was seated on the floor with his legs and arms stretched out in front of him, both bound strongly with a length of rope. His face was pale as he struggled in vain against the binding, but it was clearly magically bound together and his struggles bore no results.

Hermione felt her heart beating with anticipation. They were so close; they could snatch him and they could run, make a break for it. The three of them against one memory – surely the odds were in their favour? But Hermione soon realised that something was wrong.

She looked at Harry who looked back at her. She could see the same question in his eyes.

"Where's Riddle?" she whispered.

It did not make sense. Ron was tied by the feet of statue, shaken but otherwise unharmed. Riddle had put him there. And behind them stood what they thought was the memory of a man, a Horcrux, slowly inching its way into being by sucking away the life from Ron. Except that Ron looked fine. Had not Harry said that Ginny had been unconscious when he found her? Ice cold? Some thing did not fit – what if the man was not a memory after all? And where, _where_ was Riddle?

Harry shook his head.

"I don't know. But it doesn't matter now – we have to save Ron. We need to distract that man and then get Ron under the cloak. But how? If he sees us, he'll attack. He was carrying a wand. I saw it. Riddle could use a wand even when he was still a memory. I'm sure this man can, too."

"Leave it to me," Hermione whispered.

She raised her wand and turned towards the door. The man was still standing eerily in the doorway, as though he was sensing for something, rather than looking or hearing. Carefully, she aimed her wand and silently cast a spell. From this distance, there was no effect, but from the way the man sharply turned his head, Hermione knew she had been successful. He slowly strode out of the Chamber.

"What did you do?" asked Harry, wide eyed.

"I moved a small rock out in the corridor. It made the faintest of sounds, making him think we are outside rather than inside. Come on. We won't have much time."

Quietly and as quickly as they dared, they hurried towards Ron. Hermione kept anxiously looking over her shoulder, as though expecting the man to suddenly appear behind them, but he did not. Soon they were only a few metres away from Ron and they inched forward carefully, not wanting to alarm him. Hermione noticed that the air felt different here. It was fresher, not as stale as the rest of the room was. She found that very strange and looked around, wondering if there as perhaps a tunnel of sorts by the statue that provided the fresh air.

"Ron," Harry whispered carefully.

Ron's head snapped up, and he looked around in disbelief.

"Ron, it's me – Harry."

"Harry? Where are you?" Ron whispered. He looked confused, scared even.

"Here, under the cloak. I'm going to set you free. Don't move," Harry said and it was not until he had already raised his wand that it struck Hermione – the fresh air was not coming from outside. It was the sign of a ward – a ward had been placed on Ron. It was old magic, rarely used at all in recent centuries in favour of simpler spells, but it was dangerous and powerful all the same.

Panicking, Hermione reached out a hand to stop Harry and whispered a frantic "no", but it was too late. Harry had already cast the spell and the instant he did so, there was a deafening blast and she and Harry were both thrown violently into the air, Hermione landing yet again on her already bruised side.

Panicking, Hermione sat up quickly and realised that she was completely visible. Harry was lying on the floor a few metres away from her, struggling to sit up and the cloak by his feet. He was clutching his left arm and his skin was deathly pale. Hermione wondered if he had broken it. Ron was still sitting where they had left him, but he seemed to be unconscious. Before she could jump up and reach Harry and the cloak, she heard the loud footsteps coming from behind her. She spun around and to her horror she saw that the man had hurried back into the Chamber, his eyes fixed on the both of them and his wand raised. Before Hermione could react, he flicked his wand and both she and Harry were tied up in the same way Ron was. Harry gave out a sharp cry of pain as thick rope wrapped around his arm – Hermione had no doubt now that it was either broken or terribly bruised. Both their wands lay uselessly on the floor, too far away for them to reach.

Her heart beating anxiously, Hermione turned to look at the man. He was not as blurred as he had been – at least, her eyes could tolerate looking at him. She saw that there was something terribly wrong with his features. Part of him looked very young, like his smooth skin, and yet other parts of him betrayed age, such the many strands of grey hairs amongst a head of full, black hair. Hermione could not be sure, but he seemed to look different to what he had when they had first seen him. His hair had seemed longer and it was almost as though he had become slightly shorter and not as thin. She wondered if it was because he was becoming more solid and her eyes were just deceiving her.

"So," the man hissed angrily, looking from Harry to her and back. "So, you've found your way into the Chamber. How… unexpected. I must admit I had not expected this."

Unnervingly, the man's eyes stopped on her. It was though no one else existed in the room. Hermione could not help but stare back into the man's cold, grey eyes. They seemed oddly familiar and yet she was certain she had never seen the man before in her life. She held her breath as he approached her, wishing dearly to have her wand in her hand, but it was lying uselessly on the floor some metres away from her.

The man did not stop until he was standing right beside her, looking down at her with an expression of curious contempt. Hermione glared back, her expression hard but her heart beating manically in her chest.

"Hermione Jean," he said, his voice deep and intimidating.

The fact that he knew her name bothered her.

"Don't touch her!" Harry snapped angrily. Though Hermione could not tear her eyes of the stranger, she could still hear that the words cost Harry greatly, and she could just see the grimace of pain in his face.

In spite of Harry's warning, the man held out his wand and she felt her breath catch in her throat from fear.

"Silence, Evans," the man said without looking at him. His voice was quiet but with a deadly edge. "Do not test my patience."

_Why is he interested in me? Who is he? What does he want?_

The thoughts were racing through her mind, but she could find no answers.

"Didn't you hear me?" Harry shouted. "Leave her alone!"

But the man ignored him and nonverbally cast a spell. Hermione scrunched her eyes closed and prepared for the attack, but rather than the pain she had been expecting, she found herself standing on her feet, shaken and more bruised than she had ever been before in her life, arms and legs still bound tightly but otherwise fine. Carefully, she opened her eyes and saw that the man was staring at her neck. It was then that Hermione noticed something that she had missed earlier.

The man was wearing the necklace.

_Riddle's necklace… it must be! But where is Riddle, if this man has his necklace? And how did he get it?_

Hermione felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of _worry_ for Riddle. If this man was in the Chamber when he most certainly should not be and was wearing Riddle's necklace – something Riddle would most certainly not part with, something he could not _physically_ part – then where was Riddle?

The man's gaze left her neckline and flickered back upwards to meet her own. He smiled, a sinister, unnerving smile, as though he knew exactly what she was wondering, before turning his head and looking at a pillar not far away from them. Hermione followed his gaze and to her absolute shock, saw that Riddle was lying on the cold hard floor. She had never seen his skin look so pale…

"Oh, he's not dead," the man said, his voice cold but clearly amused. "At least not yet. He will be soon, however."

"What – what have you done to him?" she stuttered.

But she did not need him to answer that question for her. She figured it out herself – the man, the Horcrux – what ever he is – was not using Ron's life force. He was using Riddle's.

It was impossible. It did not make sense. Riddle was not meant to die. He was meant to live, to become the Dark Lord. How could this have happened? How could this Horcrux have done something like this? Had he tricked Tom into playing along, just as Riddle had done to Ginny? Or was this part of the plan somehow? Did Riddle know what he was doing? Was he willingly sacrificing himself? Both options seemed impossible to her.

"You can't kill him," Harry said angrily.

Hermione turned her head in surprise. For a moment it sounded to her as though Harry was defending Riddle. But he couldn't be... he did not show it as much as Ron did, but she knew he hated Riddle with a passion and would gladly let him die. It was only the timeline that held him back. And she realised that was what Harry must have meant, that Riddle can't die in thsi Chamber tonight because of the time line.

"Can't I?" the man said softly. "Of course I can. I don't need to, of course… I made sure of that… but I certainly think I will. It makes things so much easier this way, you see."

He turned back towards Hermione and raised a hand towards her neck.

"Don't touch me!" Hermione yelled, flinching as his fingers grazed her skin. Because her arms and legs were still bound, she lost her balance and fell on to the hard floor. The man merely raised his wand again. Before she knew it, she was on her feet and her necklace was in his hand before she could stop him.

"Let go of her!" Harry yelled. "Leave her alone! _Stupefy! Impedimenta!_"

But the spells did not work – Harry had no wand. Hermione tried to push the man away but he was surprisingly strong. He examined the necklace carefully, ignoring her struggles and Harry's continued yells.

"Time traveller," he stated after a moment and Hermione was terrified, both by what he had said and by the obvious suppressed rage in his voice.

The man pushed her angrily and she fell painfully onto the floor, leaving Hermione bewildered by his sudden, inexplicable change of mood.

"_Crucio_!" the man shouted, and the next few seconds felt like a lifetime as unbearable pain blazed through her body. It was as though every cell in her body was on fire, as though a thousand small, sharp pins were being pressed into every inch of her skin. She screamed and screamed, and she wished for death before finally the curse was stopped. She collapsed against the floor, whimpering and shaking, tears that she had not known she had shed streaming down her cheeks.

_What is this? Who is he? How did he know?_

She was vaguely aware of Harry's voice, yelling at the man, but such was her state that she did not understand a word he was saying. Soon she found herself flying though the air again, but this time she did not land on the stone floor but on something considerable softer. As she rolled over she realised that she had landed on Riddle. Up close, his skin was even whiter than she realised. To her surprised, she realised that the bonds of her arms and legs have vanished and she reached out to touch his skin. It was eerily cold. And yet he was breathing – he was not dead. There was still hope. He would not die. The timeline did not allow it.

Hermione struggled to climb to her feet, remembering that the man was still there, but she was too weak and her legs collapsed beneath her. Looking up, she saw that the man was looking at her with an expression that made her blood freeze. He was furious. Hermione could not understand it.

"Who are you?" the man demanded.

"Hermione Granger," she answered promptly, much to her own shock. She clasped her hands to her mouth in horror. She had never intended to answer. She did not understand – and then it hit her.

_The Veritaserum._

She was still under the influence of the truth serum; it had not yet worn out. And in her weakened physical state, it seemed that she had a much weaker ability to resist.

The man narrowed his eyes at her and took a step closer to her.

"By which Founder do you wear the necklace?"

"Gryffindor," she replied, before she could stop herself.

"Hermione, no! Don't answer!" Harry shouted.

"Silence!" the man said coldly, his eyes not leaving her.

It was then that Hermione realised that something had changed. His eyes – his cold, grey eyes – had changed. They were no longer grey, but brown. A very familiar shade of brown… and his hair, she realised, was different too. There was not a grey hair to be seen and his skin was smoother, his cheekbones more defined and his chin stronger. His skin too was a paler colour. Overall, he had a more defined look, as though the blur was fading.

_He's changing…not only is he becoming more solid, more real, but his appearance is changing. _

And that was when it hit her. The eyes… they were Riddle's eyes. Bewildered, she barely had time to connect the ideas popping up into her mind before the man broke her concentration by asking her another question.

"And are you from the future or from the past?"

"The future," she whispered, her voice cracking as she struggled to contain her answer.

At that reply, the man let out a scream of outrage and again she found herself under the effects of the Cruciatus curse. She screamed and screamed and screamed, but the man did not lift the curse. She was vaguely aware of Harry's voice shouting in the background but it meant nothing to her until the curse was finally lifted.

"Stop it! Leave her alone!" Harry yelled desperately. "_Stupefy! Stupefy!_"

"I said _silence_!" the man roared and he turned his wand on Harry. "_Crucio_!"

It was Harry's turn to scream and the sound of pain in his voice broke Hermione's heart. She panicked, knowing the pain he was going through and desperately wanting to help but not knowing what to do. Her wand was too far for her to reach it and at any rate, her legs were too weak to carry her. She looked around, but her eyes landed only on Riddle. Seeing him lying there so lifeless and still terrified her, even though she knew that this was somehow his fault. And yet she was not scared of him, but for him. It hardly mattered to her at that moment that he was evil, that he had brought Ron in to the Chamber, that he had stolen her Whistle –

"The Whistle!" she muttered, feeling a sharp pang of excitement in the pit of her stomach.

How could she have forgotten! The Whistle of Gryffindor which would bring help to the one who blew it. If this precarious situation did not qualify as serious enough, nothing else would. With Harry's piercing scream ringing in her ears, she reached into her pocket and clasped her fingers on the cool metal. It was not until she had pulled it out of her pocket that she realised that Harry had stopped screaming. She looked up and, to her horror, realised that the man was looking at the Whistle in her hand, his expression a mixture of shock and outrage.

With a cry, he raised his wand, but Hermione was quicker. She slammed the Whistle against her lips and blew as hard as she could. The results were instant. A loud sound echoed through the chamber, as though she had blown an enormous trumpet rather than a small golden whistle. Even when she had stopped blowing from shock, the sound persisted and grew louder, causing the very foundations of the Chamber to shake. Suddenly, the sound stopped, so abruptly that Hermione gasped and three beams of light exploded from the Whistle that she was still clutching onto, or at least, Hermione thought they were light. They seemed as fluid as water yet as versatile as wind. The blue one engulfed Ron, who Hermione realised, had been roused by the deafening trumpet, while the red one engulfed Harry. The final beam, a yellow one, wrapped itself around herself and Riddle. In the background, Hermione heard the man scream in anger, but it was cut short as at that moment Hermione felt a tug behind her navel and the floor vanished beneath her feet. She soon found herself amongst a swirl of colours and shapes and she felt as though she was being flung forward at an unprecedented pace.

There was no denying the sensation. They were travelling through time.

* * *

**A/N** - I'm so sorry about the delay, but in my defence I would had it ready a few days ago but it took a while in the beta process. Thanks for being patient! And again I'd like to thanks my two awesome betas, they do a great job! :) Round of applause for Hajnalmadar and Serpent In Red! Again I'll try to make sure I still to the two week deadline next time!


	22. Salazar Slytherin

**Summary of the last few chapters** (for those who have - understandably - forgotten!): After Andrea was found petrified, the general student body suspects Hermione of being the Heir of Slytherin. The play went ahead as planned and resulted in disaster, the Hall caught on fire, the Aurors decided to take the chance to interrogate Hermione as they think she is the Heir of Slytherin. From Dumbledore's PoV, we see that, with the help of the Veritaserum, Hermione lets slip more than she had hoped, but before the Aurors could get anything substantial out of her, she vanished with the help of the Whistle of Gryffindor.

However, after looking at the Marauders map, Hermione notices that Ron and Tom had both entered the Chamber of Secrets. Fearing the worst, she returns to the castle, finds Harry and together they sneak in to the Chamber of Secrets. To their surprise, they find Riddle unconscious and a translucent figure dominated the scene instead. She is shocked to see that he is wearing Riddle's necklace and both she and Harry suspect that the man to is a Horcrux. After being discovered and overpowered by the man, Hermione remembers the Whistle and blows it, with help immediately coming to their aid...

**Chapter 22**

A moment later, everything stopped abruptly and Hermione found herself lying face down on a grassy surface. There was not a sound to be heard around her. Slowly, ever so aware of the aching of her limbs, she lifted herself up, supporting herself on her elbows. She soon realised that she was lying on a small patch of grass in the middle of the Forbidden Forest and from the dim lighting and the red sky, she realised that it was sunset. With an immense rush of relief, she saw Ron a few metres before her, slowly struggling onto his feet and Harry, already standing, looking extremely pale and clutching his left arm. To her right, to her confusion and relief, was Riddle, lying unconsciously on the floor but nonetheless breathing steadily.

"What – what just happened?" Ron muttered. "That man – is he gone? And where are we? Or _when_ are we?"

"He's g-gone," Hermione stammered, her voice breaking against her will, the horrors of the last few hours finally catching up with her. "He's gone… or rather, we're gone. We just traveled through time and he didn't come with us."

"But how?" Ron asked, frowning.

"The Whistle," Harry said faintly. "Hermione blew it and it brought us here… and it brought _him_ too," he added, looking at Riddle in contempt.

"But he can't stay here!" Ron exclaimed angrily. "He's not meant to come with us – he's meant to stay in his own time! Hermione, you said so, the time line said so! We can't just let him run loose in a time that isn't his!"

"Ron," Hermione said wearily, still trying to piece together the puzzle in her own mind, "no one said anything about letting him run loose. Besides, I think there's something we're missing, something important… something about Riddle, and that man. Ron, what happened before Harry and I got to the chamber? How did he get you there?"

Ron frowned as he thought back.

"The Imperius curse. He used it on me," he said, looking angrily at Riddle. "He made me go into the Chamber with him and then… I don't know, he did something _weird_…. Dark magic, probably," he added spitefully.

"What did he do?" Harry asked.

"He muttered some stuff in Parseltongue. I couldn't understand a thing he was saying. It was freaky though. He had this glazed over kind of look in his eyes and the whole time he just ignored me, even when he dragged me down there. You'd think he would gloat but he didn't even say a word to me. Anyway, then he went on like that, speaking Parseltongue for about a minute of two and – this is the weird part – he just fainted, collapsed right onto the floor!"

The three of them shared a look. It was certainly bizarre.

"And that man?" Hermione asked quickly. "The man we saw? Where did he come from? Harry and I, we thought that he was a Horcrux. Did Riddle have anything with him? An object that the man could have come out from?"

"Yes!" Ron said, suddenly standing up straight and looking at Hermione in horror. "Hermione, it's the necklace! The man came out of the necklace! _You're wearing the Horcrux_!"

Hermione gasped and sprang anxiously to her feet.

"W-what?" she stammered. "But, how? That's – that's impossible."

She looked down at the necklace and could not help but tug at it, as though she could take it off. It felt dirty somehow, unclean.

"I don't understand," Harry said, shaking his head. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Then let us explain."

The voice was soft, exquisitely feminine, and yet it caused all three of them to jump and raise their wands. Three people stepped forward into the clearing and Hermione, her heart still pounding from the shock, stared at them in a sort of mystified disbelief. There was a woman, presumably the one who had spoken, shorter and plump, her kind face framed by her curly blonde locks of hair. Beside her stood a man, tall and proud, with brown hair and a very familiar sword at hand. To his right stood a tall woman with striking features and lavish, long black hair. They were all dressed in exquisite robes unlike any Hermione had ever seen before.

"Merlin's beard," she heard Ron exclaim, his voice trembling slightly. "What are we doing in the Founders' time!"

Indeed, there was no mistaking that before them stood three of the Founders – Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, and Rowena Ravenclaw. Hermione stared at them in awe on one hand and terror on the other at the thought that they had traveled centuries back in time.

Helga chuckled fondly at Ron's comment.

"No, Ronald, we haven't brought you to our time. You are, in fact, back in your own time," she said kindly.

Hermione felt a rush of relief.

_We're home! But what are they doing here – and how could they have brought Riddle along!_

"But – but how?" Hermione said weakly. "How are you here? Aren't you ... I mean, you're _dead_."

Rowena nodded solemnly before saying, "Yes, Hermione, we are dead. But we live on in the necklace that you are wearing – no, don't fear. We are merely memories. I'm afraid the necklace is indeed a Horcrux, though not of us, but a companion of ours."

Hermione felt her eyes widen in horror.

"You don't mean –" she started.

"Slytherin?" Harry exclaimed incredulously. "He has a _Horcrux_? The necklace is _his_ Horcrux?"

Godric nodded darkly and answered, "Yes, Salazar Slytherin. We didn't know of his plans, of course. When we made the necklace, we were still a team, the four of us, working at Hogwarts together, and to a common aim. So he had as much claim over the necklace as the rest of us. But it was not until after he had left us, many, many years later, that he stole the necklace from us and made it his first and only Horcrux."

"So what you're saying is that the man we just met, in the Chamber, that was _Slytherin_? _The_ Salazar Slytherin?" Ron asked in amazement.

"The very same," Godric said, with a look of contempt on his face.

"But this doesn't make sense," Hermione said slowly, shaking her head. "This doesn't make sense at all. A Horcrux is only a part of Slytherin's soul. What happened to the other part? Where had that part been hiding for all these centuries? And why did Slytherin wait so long to return?"

Rowena smiled softly.

"Excellent questions, dear. I really regretted that you could not wear the necklace through my own House. You have an amazing mind."

Hermione blushed, acutely aware that she had just been praised by Rowena Ravenclaw herself, or at least, a memory of her.

"No, the necklace is not just a simple Horcrux. It is a special type. It is his life _source_. That is why he successfully used the Cruciatus curse on you, Hermione. You wore the necklace, but so did he. He has an uncanny way of controlling it. Unlike with a normal Horcrux, Slytherin can die and he does, but when he dies, the part of his soul that was inside his body merges with the part of the soul that he hid in the necklace and they both remain there until the magic is performed to release him."

"And that magic – it was performed, then? Riddle did it, didn't he?" Harry said, glaring at Riddle.

"Yes," Helga said softly, "Tom did do it, but it was Slytherin who forced him to. Slytherin designed it so that only an Heir of his could wear the necklace through his House. Tom did not want this."

"That's not true," Harry said heatedly. "Riddle did not have to be forced into it. It's exactly the sort of thing he would do. Resurrecting Slytherin would have been a dream to him – he practically idol worships him. You haven't seen him setting that basilisk loose on Muggle-borns all year round, have you?"

"No," Hermione said suddenly, her eyes fixed on Riddle's pale face. "You're wrong, Harry. He'd never have done it. You heard Slytherin, Riddle was meant to _die_," she whispered, a shiver running down her spine. "Slytherin said so. He was going to kill him. Riddle would never agree to that. He would never give his life away like that. Not for Slytherin, not for anyone."

"Hermione's right," added Rowena, as she gave Harry piercing look. "You judge Tom harshly, Harry, because of what you think he is destined to become –"

"I don't think – I know!" Harry snapped. "And he's already become that, he already opened the Chamber of Secrets, we saw him –"

"No, Harry," said Godric. "Riddle did not open the Chamber. He never could. Only Salazar could control the basilisk. It was Salazar who opened it. Not Riddle. He controlled him, possessed him, blocked off his awareness of what had happened – sealed it from his conscious."

Hermione suddenly felt her hands trembling and her mouth was terribly dry.

"You mean, Riddle – he didn't do it? He never meant to kill Muggle-borns? He – he's not evil?" she asked hopefully, hardly daring to believe her ears.

Harry and Ron looked outraged, but Helga smiled at Hermione knowingly.

"We've had access to his heart and soul for the months that he had the necklace on, just as we had access to yours," she said and Hermione blushed, knowing what they would have seen in her heart. "I firmly believe that no, he would not have opened the Chamber had Salazar not controlled him. But his heart is not pure, either. There is pride in his heritage and his abilities and a rather inflated sense of self worth. His ambition makes him worthy of his House and I am sure you have seen his cunning in action. And there is anger. Bitterness. But he is not a killer."

"He's Voldemort! _Voldemort_!" Harry insisted angrily. "Do you understand me? He killed my mum and dad! How is he not _evil_?"

Ron nodded vigoursly beside him.

"Exactly! We've seen what he's done… he's as evil as they get."

"But he's here," Hermione said slowly, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling in place. "He's here. He's here with us, in _our_ time, and Slytherin – he's not; he stayed behind! Harry, you didn't see what I saw – Slytherin; he was changing! He became more solid. His features were changing! He looked like _Riddle_!"

Harry and Ron stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Hermione," Harry said slowly, "are you saying that you think that Slytherin became Riddle… that he – that he's _Voldemort_?"

Out loud, it sounded like a terribly foolish, a hopeful idea, utterly unbelievable… and yet it all fit. She did not answer, but looked at the Founders for help. The three of them smiled and nodded.

"Tom Riddle is not Voldemort," Godric said, confirming her suspicions. "Slytherin is. After the four of you disappeared, Slytherin was stuck. He had planned on using Riddle to regain his body and he did, but Riddle left before the transformation was complete. That's why Riddle isn't dead yet. But it was not over for Slytherin. He was weaker than he had intended, but with the help of some dark magic, he was able to maintain his appearance as Riddle. He knew Riddle well, having had access to him through the necklace and was able to fool everyone. And so he went on to lead the life that you know of. He killed Myrtle. He formed the Death Eaters. He was defeated once at your hands, Harry," he added, with a nod in Harry's direction, "and now, it is time for him to be defeated once and for all."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"We brought you back to his time for a reason," he explained grimly. "A few months have passed since you first stepped into that closet. You have been missing, feared dead."

"Well, what did you bring us back so late for?" Ron said angrily. "Why couldn't you bring us back on the same day we left?"

"Because you have a task to complete. At this very moment, Voldemort is attempting to take over the school. And with the help of the necklace, now is your chance to kill him – for good."

* * *

A/N - I'm so sorry for the huge delay!!! I'm very embarrased but I've just been to busy and tired to write! I'll try to have more updates more regularly though! And my apologises about it being so short!


	23. The Plan

A/N - I'm almost embarrassed to post this - it has been so long since I updated. I'm not sure how many chapters there will be, maybe 2-3 more. I plan to update once a week or fortnight. I hope this meets expectations!

* * *

**Chapter 23**

Hermione stared at the Founders in horror before sharing an anxious look with Harry and Ron.

"He – he's _here_? At the school?" Harry asked.

"Yes. He is here with his Death Eaters. At this very moment he is standing back while his Death Eaters duel with staff, students, Aurors and members of the Ministry."

Hermione felt physically sick with fear. She wondered what was happening at that moment on the school grounds, and how many of her peers and teachers were injured, or worse – dead.

"Then I have to go and kill him," Harry said simply. Hermione did not like the determined expression he wore.

"Don't be silly Harry – you can't just walk out of here and expect to find Voldemort waiting for you!" Hermione snapped, recognising a recklessness in Harry that was known for getting him in trouble. She turned to the Founders and added, "I'm sure you mean well, but even if Harry wanted to kill him, he couldn't. He has horcruxes, other than the necklace. We have to destroy them first because we can kill him."

Godric shoke his head.

"Actually Hermione – you don't. Slytherin may have horcruxes, but you are forgetting that the necklace you were around your neck is a _master_ horcrux, of sorts. It is the source of all the other horcruxes. And importantly, if this necklace is destroyed, then the horcruxes will be destroyed also. Except for the part of the Syltherin's soul that still rests inside his – Voldemorts – body."

Hermione was astounded.

"But – but that makes every thing so much easier!" Harry exclaimed.

"So we can destroy the necklace?" asked Ron, looking eagerly at Hermione.

Helga answered that question.

"You can't," she said grimly. "Only one person can, and that is Slytherin himself."

"But that's impossible," Hermione said anxiously, "He wouldn't ever destroy it, not when he knows what it is."

"And besides, Hermione can't take it off," Ron said worriedly, shaking his head. "Which means that if he has to destroy it…"

Ron did not finish what he was going to say. He did not have to. They all knew what he was thinking. If Slytherin was the only one who destroy the necklace, that meant she would have to be there.

"So, I would have to sacrifice myself," Hermione said quietly, looking imploringly at the Founders.

"No!" cried both Harry and Ron.

"Yes," replied Hermione slowly. "And once the necklace is destroyed, then Harry, that leaves you free to kill him, as the prophecy said."

"There must be another way!" Harry cried emphatically, looking at the Founders for reassurance. "There must be! Can't we destroy it ourselves?"

"No Harry," said Godric, "Only Slytherin can do so. It from the protection that he placed on the necklace. And that is what must happen – tonight. It is the perfect opportunity."

"But how?" asked Hermione, frustrated. "How do we get him to destroy it?"

"The killing curse," said Rowena simply.

"What?" cried Ron.

"The killing curse. It is one of the few ways by which the necklace can be destroyed."

"So," said Hermione, catching on to her meaning. "So you we need Slytherin – or Voldemort – to cast the killing curse… on me?"

Rowena nodded grimly.

Hermione turned to look at Harry and Ron, who returned her terrified stare.

"But won't it kill her?" Harry asked, asking what they all wanted to know.

"No," said Godric, shaking his head. "She shouldn't be harmed at all. That isn't the concern. The concern is getting Hermione to Slytherin, and tricking him into using the killing curse on her, and then once the necklace is destroyed, getting her away safely."

"How do we do that?" Hermione asked bravely, though she was trembling. "How do we trick him into trying to kill me?"

The very words terrified her, but she kept up a brave face, knowing that this was their only hope.

"There is one way," explained Helga. "Of course, Slytherin will recognise you, from the chamber, and if he doesn't, then he will sense that you are wearing the necklace. He has a connection with it. Fortunately, you are wearing the necklace through Gryffindor, and so it can not harm or betray you. But there is no way for us to stop Slytherin from sensing it. There is one way around this though."

Helga looked at Godric, who looked at Harry before continuing.

"Harry, this is where you're help is vital," he continued solemnly.

Harry looked wide eyed, confused but determined to help. He nodded, indicating for Godric to explain.

"Harry," he started slowly, "you are aware that you have a special connection with Syltherin, or Voldemort, as you know him."

"Yes," Harry replied, as he thought about the point.

"Well, Harry, we think, or rather, we know, that if you are present with Hermione then it is most likely that Syltherin will confuse the connection that he will feel with the necklace, with the one that he has always felt with you. That way, if he doesn't recognise Hermione, then he won't be aware of the presence of the necklace."

Harry and Ron were silent as they contemplated the thought, but Hermione looked at Godric in horror. She didn't think that they realised what she just did, they didn't realise the implications of what Godric had just said.

"But – but that means –" Hermione said, her voice trembling, "if the connection that he has with necklace is the same as the one he has with Harry… then Harry – Harry must be –"

Hermione didn't dare to speak the words, but the nods of the Founders confirmed her terrible suspicion. She clasped her hands to her mouth, staring at Harry in horror as her eyes weld up in tears. He stared back at her, utterly bewildered.

"What? What is it?" Ron demanded.

Hermione could not explain, so Godric spoke instead.

"Harry, the reason that you have a special connection with Syltherin is because on the night he tried to kill you, he was trying to make a horcrux. But when the spell rebounded, Voldmort was destroyed, though his soul was still torn apart. Part of him fled, but the other part – the part that was meant to be encased inside a treasure, did not. Harry, that piece of Voldemort's soul is inside you. You are a horcrux, Harry."

Harry stared at Godric is shock. He did not move, he did not make a sound, as he bore the weight of the revelation. Hermione looked at him with a mixed expression of horror and pity, as did Ron.

"So," he said slowly, looking only at Godric, "so, if Voldmort destroys the necklace, what will happen to me? Will – will I die?"

Hermione felt her insides freeze as she waited for the Founders to answer. But there was nothing but silence until at length, Rowena spoke.

"We don't know," she replied softly.

And that was all that was said. Hermione and Ron looked at Harry, terrified. She felt sick. It was terrifying enough that she had to face Voldmort and the killing curse. At least she knew the curse would not kill her. But it might kill Harry.

"We don't have to do this, Harry," Ron said desperately. "Not yet – there must be another way. We – we can talk to Dumbledore – or – or –"

"There is no other way Ron," he replied calmly. "I have a plan. We need Voldemort to try to kill Hermione, and I need to be there too. Hermione – I'm sorry I have to ask you do to this. I want you to come with me while I hand myself in to Voldemort. You have to wear the cloak, and you need to take the curse when Voldmort casts the killing curse at me."

Hermione felt her eyes tearing up.

"Oh Harry! It's too dangerous!" she cried. "You could be killed!"

"What other choice do I have?" he replied grimly. "If the curse misses you and hits me instead, then it will destroy the horcrux that is in me," he said, the disgust in his voice evident. "And if it hits you – you will be fine, and you will have the cloak on so you can make a quick escape."

"But what about you?" Ron exclaimed angrily. "How will you escape?"

"I can't escape," Harry said grimly. "Either I will die as the horcrux is destroyed, or I will be fine and stay back to kill Voldemort, or he will kill me, as the prophecy said will happen."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, neither of them liking the plan, though they knew there was no talking Harry out of this. The Founders, however, beamed, Godric especially, and there was no mistaking the look of pride that they wore.

"A true Gryffindor!" Godric cried.

Harry beamed grimly, before turning solemly to Hermione.

"What do you say, Hermione?" he asked pleadingly. "I can't do this without you."

Hermione looked at Ron, who looked at her expectantly, clearly terrified.

"Oh Harry!" she cried, before collapsing in tears and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry it has to come to this! I wish there was another way, I really do!"

"Me too, Hermione," he said sadly, his eyes tearing up as he patted her on the back.

"But what about me?" Ron insisted angrily. "What role do I play in this? I'm coming with you Harry! I have to help."

"No Ron," said Harry, as Hermione let go of him. "There is no need – there's no point for you to – to die too."

Before Ron could protest, Rowena cut in.

"Ron can join the fight against the Death Eaters. Voldemort will shortly be joining the fight, and will be duelling against Dumbledore."

"How you do know that?" Ron asked, frowning.

"We can not say," answered Rowena mysteriously, "but we know this. Harry – Dumbledore knows what you are – but he is not ready to let the horcrux inside you be destroyed. Not yet. That is why we will be there – to provide a shield for you and Hermione, to stop anything and anyone from harming you until you reach Voldemort. And to stop Dumbledore or anyone else from interfering. We can help protect you until Voldmort destroys the necklace. After that, you will all be on your own, for we will be gone, and we hope that Dumbledore will be able to protect you all."

Harry nodded.

"Should we go now, then? Is it the right time?"

"Not yet, Harry," replied Godric. "First, we would like a word with you each. Harry, walk with me."

Looking startled, Harry let Godric lead him away from the others, while Rowena took Hermione by the hand and lead her away. Helga stayed back with Ron.

Rowena and Hermione stopped after a few paces. They were far enough from the others so that they could see them clearly, but not hear them.

"You are nervous?" asked Rowena, looking kindly at Hermione.

She nodded in reply, her eyes tearing up again.

"It's just – we've been through so much, we've faced so much. And we knew the day would come, eventually, that Harry would have to face up to Voldemort… but I just didn't expect it to come so soon, in this way… and knowing that the necklace is a part of Voldemort, and Harry too…"

Rowena nodded in understanding.

"You have been so brave so far, all of you. You have done us all proud, Hermione. I'm so sorry it had to come to this."

There was silence for a moment as Hermione contemplated the monstrous task that was awaiting them, and then, she remembered…

"What about Tom?" she asked suddenly. She had completely forgotten about him in shock of the revelations, but it all hit her so suddenly at that moment… he was not evil. He was not a murderer. He was not Voldemort. "What will happen to him now?"

Rowena smiled knowingly.

"He won't be able to go back to his own time. Not after Slytherin stole his identity, and the necklace is destroyed. We have left a note for Dumbledore that will appear if the three of you do not survive, explaining everything. We hope he can continue his life here. And maybe," she added after a pause, "maybe, if you survive, you can help him continue his life. Isn't that what you would like, Hermione?"

Hermione blushed. Had she not been so terrified, she would have been in bliss. Tom was innocent – she did not have to feel guilty about her feelings anymore.

"I just want this to be over," she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears again. "I just want Voldemort to be gone. I want us all to survive."

There was another silence, which Rowena broke this time.

"Don't you want to know how you came to find the necklace?" she asked.

Hermione was dumbstruck for a moment, before she cried, "Yes! How did I find it? Why wasn't Voldemort guarding it? And why did we end up in the year that we did?"

Rowena smiled.

"Well, you see – Voldemort was guarding it. He had hidden the necklace in the Room of Requirement, being too arrogant to believe that anyone else knew the entrance to the room. He hid it there, thinking that no one would ever find it but him. Not long afterwards, Malfoy started spending much time in the room. Occasionally, as he worked, he would mumble and curse under his breath, and three names in particular caught our attention – Harry, Ron and of course, you, Hermione. We immediately realised that you were the three students who had time travelled to Riddles time. At that time, you hadn't worn the necklace yet – but Riddle had, and we remembered the mysterious young girl who also wore the necklace. We used our magic to attract Malfoy to the necklace – hence why he had hanged it on the Vanishing cabinet he was working on. But of course he couldn't wear it. But being the true Gryffindor you are – it was only too easy for Godric to use his magic to entice you into wearing the necklace."

"And the time travel? Did you do that too?" Hermione asked.

"No. It was not our place to do so – that was in fact an accident, of sorts. You see, the powers of the necklace were activated by the Vanishing cabinet, which was not in proper working condition. It was very much out of control. The reason you arrived in the time that you did was because it was the same instant that Riddle had found the necklace and put it on. That act created a sort of anchor that allowed the time travel to stop when it did."

"And how did Riddle find the necklace?" she asked, awed.

Rowena smiled knowing.

"The same way that you did – in the Room of Requirement. He spent much time in there – having the brilliant mind he does, he was absolutely fascinated by the history contained in the room. He would have done well in Ravenclaw," she added wistfully. "He would spend hours on end sorting through the discarded objects, until finally one day he came across the necklace, and was enticed by Slytherin to wear it."

"And just one more thing – why did the sorting hat put us in Slytherin?"

"Simply because it is Godric's hat – and from the necklace, he was able to tell it to do so. It was essential for you to be in close proximity Riddle, because we knew he was the only person who could help you."

At that moment, Godric called out Rowena's name. The two women turned to see that he had approached them.

"It's time," was all he said, before returning to the others.

Hermione looked at Rowena before taking a deep breath and followed him. This was it. It was time to face their destiny.


	24. The Battle

**Chapter 24**

Hermione returned to find Harry and Ron standing grimly wands raised, and with the invisibility cloak in Harry's hand (which appeared to have been mended in her absence).

"Ready?"asked Harry, as he extended the cloak, indicating for her to hide below it.

"What if he doesn't cast the killing curse?"Hermione asked, not moving. "What if casts something else, and it hits me. I'll be found out."

"I don't think so, Hermione," he replied, looking determined. "I don't think he will risk it. He wouldn't want me to get away, like I always have."

"But what if he does?" insisted Ron, who looked very pale.

"It is a risk I am willing to take," Hermione said, even as she felt her wand shaking in her hand.

"Under the cloak now, all of you," said Godric. "There is not much time left. We will be with you, although you will not be able to see us. We will protect you as much as we can, both from wayward curses, and from anyone trying to interfere. But once the necklace is destroyed, we will vanish. And then it is all up to you."

"But how will you see us, underneath the cloak?" asked Harry.

"We will be able to," replied Rowena. "That is all that matters."

There was a moment of silence in which the three simply looked at each other. Hermione's hands were still trembling, but she was determined.

"We can do this," she whispered before the three of them hugged. She resisted the temptation to cry, and spared one last thought for her parents before the three of them disappeared under the cloak. Sparing one last look at Riddle, lying there, unmoving, on the hard ground, hoping that it would not be the last time she would see him, they made their way out of the forest in silence. They had not walked long before they could hear the commotion of the battle.

Hermione was struck by the noise. She could hear people crying out, people screaming – in pain or in fear she did not know – and soon they could hear more clearly, people shouting curses, and defensive charms. Finally, they reached the edge of the forest, and the scene that was playing out before them was awe inspiring. It was like nothing she had ever seen before – almost a hundred people, running around the grounds, battling. With a lurch in her stomach, she saw that many bodies were scattered across the grounds, unmoving... she hoped they were death eaters...

"I don't see him," said Harry at once, who was frantically searching the grounds. "I don't see Voldemort, or Dumbledore."

"Come on, we need to move closer," said Hermione, "so we can move quickly when he does show up..."

Soon they were close enough that they could recognise those who ran before them, but far away enough so that they could avoid being hit by misplaced curses. Hermione felt a jolt in her stomach every time she recognised someone... Professor McGonagall, Tonks, Moody, Remus... and every now and then, a student...

"Ginny!"gasped Ron.

And Hermione, horrified, saw her too, locked in battle with a fierce looking Death Eater who she did not recognise.

Without warning, Ron tore off the cloak and ran to join the battle, his wand raised before him.

"Stupefy!" he cried, just as Ginny had been knocked off her feet. His aim was true, and the Death Eater fell to the ground.

"Ron!" cried Ginny, as he helped her to her feet, and she threw her arms around him. "Ron, we thought you were dead!"

"I'm okay!" he replied, as he looked around hastily, "And so are Harry and Hermione."

"I – what are you wearing?" she exclaimed, as Ron was still wearing his outfit from the play.

But a curse narrowly missed Ron before he could reply, and they were forced to rejoin the battle. Hermione felt Harry becoming restless besides her.

"Hurry up, hurry up," he exclaimed through gritted teeth, his eyes flicking from person to person.

And then, suddenly, everything seemed to change, people were screaming... but there was no mistaking the fear this time. There was chaos as the Death Eaters retreated to one side, and Hermione suddenly understood... there was no mistaking his grotesque, snakelike appearance... Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the battle field. Even from where they stood, Hermione could hear his sick, twisted laugh...

Harry started besides her, and turned look at her.

"Now!""he cried, and he tried to make his way forward, but Hermione pulled him back.

"They said Dumbledore would be here!"

But even before Harry could reply, a figure came rushing out of the castle, and running across the grounds.

Suddenly cries of joy filled the air, and the screaming died down.

"Dumbledore!" hissed Voldemort.

And indeed, it was Dumbledore, who was now standing almost face to face with Voldemort, each with their supporters lined up behind them, wands raised, ready for battle.

"You were meant to be away," said Voldemort, his anger unmistakable.

"Funny how those things happen, Tom,"Dumbledore replied, with an air of authority that appeared to infuriate Voldemort, and before Hermione knew what was happening, both wizards were locked in a fierce and horrific battle, the likes of which she had never seen before. Before they had cast more than a handful of spells each, however, Harry had grabbed her arm and they were running forward towards the action.

They stopped at a safe distance, and Harry turned to Hermione, whispered good luck, before pulling off the cloak, stepping forward, and shouting, "Tom Riddle!"

A gasp ran through the crowd.

"Harry Potter!"

"It's Potter – he's _alive_!"

"He's come to save us!"

Even Dumbledore and Voldemort had stopped their battle at the sound of his voice.

Voldemort hissed, in apparent glee, "Potter!"

"No!"cried Dumbledore.

Harry stood his ground, shoulders held back, wand raised in true defiance. Hermione rushed to stand in front of him, her hands trembling worse than ever. She felt the power of the necklace, and knew that it was giving her the courage to do what she had to do.

At that moment, something very strange happened. It was as though an invisible field had been set up around Dumbledore – Hermione could see his lips moving, could see that he waving his wand, but nothing at all was happening, and not a word he spoke was audible.

Voldemort too was taken aback by this occurrence.

"What is the meaning of this?" he scorned, looking angrily at Dumbledore.

"I did it!" lied Harry boldly.

"You?"said Voldemort mockingly, turning to face Harry. "You? You think _you_ have the power to do this?"

"Yes,"Harry replied loudly, so that everyone present could hear him. "Yes, I do. I don't want him to be the one to kill you – I want that glory to be mine!"

Hermione knew, as Harry raised his wand, that he was trying to provoke him, and it worked – Voldemort cried out furiously, raised his wand, and shouted,

"Avada Kedavra!"

Hermione did not even have time to brace herself. There was a flash of green light, and everything was black.

* * *

Meanwhile, Tom Riddle was still lying in the forest, quiet still. But what everyone had failed to notice was that his lack of movement was attributed to a terrible fatigue that had overcome him, rather than unconsciousness. So he lay in the dirt, unmoving, barely able to exert the energy needed to breath. But what his body lacked in energy, his mind made up for in alertness, because for some strange reason, though Slytherin had drained his body, his mind was left unaltered.

Although he could not remember what had happened immediately after the left the great hall – which he attributed to the imperious curse – he had heard every word of the conversation between Hermione, Harry and Ron, and later, the Hogwarts Founders.

And what he had heard had left him silently seething. There was only one concept on his mind at the moment – revenge. Of course, he feared that he might not be able to claim it, given the predicament he was in, but that only contributed to his anger.

Then everything changed. Just as he was lamenting the likelihood that revenge might never be his – that his body might fail him first – he felt a terrible sensation in his stomach, as though someone had kicked him, and suddenly the sensation swept through his body – but much to his shock, there was no pain. Instead, as the sensation spread, he felt a fresh burst of energy, and almost as quickly as the sensation had hit him, it was gone.

At last, he opened his eyes. His breathing was again a task which came naturally, and without delay he jumped to his feet and pulled out his wand.

It was time to take his revenge.

* * *

**A/N** - I'm sorry it is so short! Hopefully the next chapter will be a bit longer, and up in a few weeks.


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